


Euphoria

by Deathsdoll



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, BDSM, D/s, Dominance and Submission, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathsdoll/pseuds/Deathsdoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl receives a mysterious invitation to an exclusive sex club. She is pleased to learn who her 'master' is, but as their relationship begins to progress both must overcome the damage done by traumatic childhoods if they want to find love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Euphoria was not your typical BDSM club. It was elite, private, and the dominants needed to pay a fee of up to ten thousand dollars a year to remain members. It was not a homogeneous clubs; there were dominants and dominatrixes alike, homo and heterosexual relationships. What made it so exclusive was the fee needed and the fact that submissives or slaves, as the club made a distinction, needed to be invited by a dominant. Once inside they were the property of the Dom that invited them.  Free only to leave once a safe word was used and once the word was said they could not be invited back. It promoted a stretching of limits that other clubs did not.

I learned all this on the internet a day after I found my invitation on my doorstep. At first I thought there had to be some sort of mistake. I was not dating anyone; I had no real male friends. I was far too busy for friends, working two jobs and going to school full time, but  none the less I googled the name of the club.  No one knew of my deepest sexual desires, or so I thought, and so I had no idea how someone could possibly think I would respond to such an invite. Still, the thought of it sent my body on fire.

I was a virgin, so I have never had any type of sex, vanilla or otherwise, but this was exciting. I wanted to be part of this type of relationship. I wanted to give up control and serve a man in all things. Sometimes I felt like I should be ashamed of it but the fire it lit on my insides was undeniable. I was going to throw the invitation out but the safety regulations for the club lulled me into a sense of security, whether false or deserved I did not know. There were bouncers throughout the club, a persons license was scanned upon entering, all male members had their information on file, and if a slave or sub decided to go home with their dominant after first meeting a note was made at the front desk, and both partners had to arrive by noon the next day to report both were unharmed.            

My heart thundered as I looked on the date of the invitation. It was tonight, nine o’clock sharp. I knew this was a onetime deal. These dominants were too proud. If he wanted me tonight and I did not know he would not give me a second chance. My loins tightened at the thought. I told myself that I did not even know who this could be, that it could be a fat old man, but then I reminded myself I could use my safe word and be escorted out at any time.

I looked at the invitation again. I had to call to inform them if I was coming or not by five. It was 4:45. I bit down on my bottom lip hard.  I was terrified, I told myself not to do it, but I had been so boring for so long. My roommate hated me. She thought I was a bookish virgin who would never have any fun in life. And up until now she had been right. I had an opportunity here, to fulfill my fantasies, to see if I even liked them, at least for a night. This man that invited me, (I hoped it was a man anyway), might not even like me.

I was swallowed hard and picked up my cell phone. I dialed the number before I could talk myself out of it. I waited, my heart pounding in my ears, my mouth dry, my stomach in knots. My c hest heaved and when I heard the voice on the other end I almost hung up. I stumbled over my tongue as if it did not belong in my mouth when I replied.

“Congratulations on your invitation to serve a true master at Euphoria. This is Mistress Kathleen. Name and identification number.”

I noted throughout her clipped speech she did not say please.

“Um… my name is… um... my identification… I’m Katie Peirce… where is my Identification number?” I closed my eyes and inwardly groaned. I always fell apart when faced by authority. I wanted to please everyone. And even though I did not want to please this woman sexually she was a mistress and I wanted her to be happy with me. It was an odd facet of my personality I was just beginning to come to terms with.           

“Calm down little girl,” the voice said smoothly, condescendingly, but the little name actually made me feel better. “It is in the bottom right of your invitation.”

“Oh... thank you, sorry. It is 1947438-90,” I read out. I waited.

“Give me your email,” she ordered and I spit it out before I could even think.                 

“Instructions have been emailed to you. Arrive at Euphoria at 8:59. You will be taken in at nine exactly. Good bye.”

The phone disconnected and I went to my email. I swallowed hard, my dry throat aching. The email had directions to the club, the instruction that the invitation was to be brought with me and given to the receptionist upon arrival, and that I was to wear no makeup and have no product in my hair. My pussy was to be shaved along with my legs and armpits (obviously), and I was not allowed to wear any type of perfume.  The clothing I wore did not matter as my master would have an outfit ready for me when I arrived. I tingled at that. I always thought dressing up for a man was sexy, in an outfit he wanted, something that would please him.

I was not really nervous until I got into my car to drive to the club. I left very early so I would not be late, and when I did find the parking lot I waited outside of nearly forty five minutes, as the time I was told to arrive seemed very specific, and I did not want to break any rules. When I did get out of the car I let out a cry of fear. A man stood there, in black pants and a black shirt, massive, muscular arms, and a tattoo on the side of his neck. I was sure I was about to die, but before I could turn to run he held his palms up to calm me.

“Relax, relax. I am parking security. I make sure the subs get to and from their cars safely,” he told me in a deep, but calming voice.

“Oh, I thought you were going to murder me,” I laughed.  He only smiled and nudged his head.

“Safety is taken very seriously here,” he told me when he saw my shaking hands. “A neutral bouncer will have his eyes on you at all times.”                                       

“Thanks,” I breathed, grateful he tried to comfort me.

“Mistress Kathleen is at the desk tonight. She’s a little intimidating, even to me, but don’t be frightened. She likes young men,” he told me and opened the front door. I thanked him again and walked inside. The theme of the club was white and black. The room was dimly lit, but the beautiful white walls, black paneling, desk and leather chairs brightened it up. At the desk was the woman I had spoken to earlier and I swallowed hard again. She looked up at me harshly and I was amazed at her beauty. I felt self-conscious as she eyes me and I suddenly wished they had allowed me to wear makeup. I was at least a little pretty with makeup on.

“You are early,” she said to me and I sputtered looking at my watch. It was 8:57. I was two minutes early. I apologized but she had already picked up the phone and began dialing. She held out her hand impatiently and I went to her, handing her my invitation. She read it over and put some information in the computer.

“Yes, she’s here,” she said and then read off my ID number. My stomach turned with nervousness but I was always beyond excited. The fear actually seemed to turn me on further. That anything could happen to me was intoxicating.

“You have two safe words. They are basic and universal. If your master decides to keep you he will chose a                      specialized safe word for you.  Tonight it is red and orange. Red means the night will end; you will be removed and sent home safely. Orange means you are frightened and unsure of what is coming next. You want to speak to your master for an explanation or comfort. Because you are a novice you are allowed this second word. When or if you are taken into the club permanently that privilege will be stripped from you. Understand?”

“Yes,” I whispered and she gave me a harsh look.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry,” I breathed and her face softened.

“I love the new ones,” she mused and a door to her left opened. Standing there was a tall man in jeans and a t-shirt. I wandered if he was my master but I did not think so. He said nothing to me and led me into a back room. Inside was a small back, a locker and a key.

“You will change into what your master has chosen for you, then come out and get me. Be quick. He is anxious to meet you,” he told me and I nodded. He left me alone and I went into my bag. I was expecting leather, chains and clamps. I was surprised at what I saw. Inside was a simple deep blue silk slip, embroidered with beautiful white lace flowers near the bottom. With it was a light robe, the same color and material as the slip. A matching thong came with it and I dressed in apprehension. I could not believe I was about to do this. The closer I got to meeting the man who sent me the invitation the worse my nerves got. I was terrified. My mouth was dry, my stomach tossed and turns my body was tight, but my desire was on fire and my pussy tingled. I could tell I was already making the thong wet.

The man led me out of the back hallways and into the heart of the club. Music played, but inside was not what I was expected. On white and black leather couches were well dressed men and woman, drinking and laughing and talking to each other. At their feet or in their laps were others, dressed in all manner of ways. One girl with a leash around her neck was topless, one boy had a jock strap on while another was in tight jean shorts.

We walked past a scene where two men in suits laughed and congratulated each other while their slave girls kissed each other and tweaked each other’s hard nipples. I prayed I would not have to do that. I wanted to serve my master, but I was always a monogamous person. I found myself hoping my master was jealous and possessive, that he could punish me if I even looked at someone else. The thought made my lower stomach quicker in delightful pleasure.

“Master Brooks,” the man in front of me called and I felt like I was hit with a sack of bricks. I knew who he was. “I have your slave.”

“Ah, she actually came,” his smooth, arrogant voice said and she heard other men chuckling. “I feared she was too timid.”

I could not believe it when I saw him. His dark eyes raked over my small curvy body in the outfit of his choosing, arrogant satisfaction coming to his face. He came to the coffee shop I worked at every morning, but he had never actually spoken to me. I usually waited on the table next to his, but we had made eye contact a few times before. I knew who he was; anyone in the city knew who he was. He owned so much real estate in the city he raked in seven figures in only half a year. His face was on countless billboards advertizing his company and his ruthless business instincts were praised by economists throughout the country. And here he was in his black Armani suit, seated on a white leather couch, sipping brandy from a glass, eyeing me like he had just purchased me from an auction. My body trembled and I was flushed with excitement.

“Thank you, Carter,” he said and I was left alone with him. Well, him and his other friends, also nicely dressed with arrogant smirks on their faces. I stared back at Xavier Brooks, unable to move. He smirked slightly and raised his eyebrows.

“You kneel now,” he said and it was as if he activated a magnetic switch. My knees collided with the white carpet on the floor. The men at the table laughed and I blushed, looking down at the floor. My eyes landed on the shiny leather of his shoes and I chewed by bottom lip hard. 

“You always find the sweet ones,” someone mused and I felt Brooks’ hand on my chin. I was made to look up at him and my nipples tightened, pointing out through my silk slip. He leaned in toward me but did not kiss me. Instead he inhaled deeply through his nose.

“I know they tell you not to wear perfume, but I had hoped you would smell as you always do,” he said softly near my ear. He pulled back to look me in the eyes. His eyes were black, hot and intense. I shivered and struggled to keep eye contact. “Like vanilla and strawberries.”

“You must let us watch you deflower this one,” another man asked and my eyes widened. As long as they were not allowed to join in I would be alright. Brooks looked my face over and leaned back, releasing my chin.

“I desire privacy,” he replied and finished off his brandy. “Especially with this one.”

He stood and I backed up, still on my knees.

“Stand up,” he said shortly and I obeyed. I had never been able to fully appreciate his height until this moment. He towered over my slightly frame, his body broad and sturdy. I followed him through the club in a silent daze, past a security guard and into back hallways once again. I watched as he retrieved keys from his pocket and opened a door. He stepped to the side and reached out to me, guiding me into the room with a large, warm hand on my shoulders. My eyes scanned over the room and I saw a comfortable little apartment. There was a little sitting room and two doors, one of them leading into a bedroom I presumed. He pushed me toward the other door and my hands began to tremble again.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now,” he told me softly, his deep voice strong and firm, yet soothing and comforting. “From the moment I saw you in that coffee shop.”

He pulled out a second set of keys and opened the door.

“I am going to truly enjoy teaching you the joys of submitting to a master,” he said and the door swung open. Before I could step into the room he stuck his arm around, preventing me from entering. “You know your safe words?” 

“Yes master,” I whispered.

He looked me over and I waited. Slowly his arm lowered and he motioned for me to step inside. I walked inside and heard him follow. He closed the door behind him and I heard the lock. My stomach leapt into my throat. Then the lights came on, and an audible gasp left me lips.


	2. II

I was terrified by what I saw. On the walls in front of me were all manner of things. Canes, and whips, and paddles, restraints and gags, clips and blindfolds. Scattered about the room were various different furniture contraptions. I could feel Brooks move behind me and I turned back to look at him. His dark eyes were on me, his face stony, and his eyes dark and impenetrable. In the dim light I was struck once again by how extremely handsome this man was. I could not fathom why he would be interested in me. He had a dark complexion and rigid, masculine features. He had a strong roman nose and a strong square jaw. And in his suit, his tall, lean body looked powerful and confident. I bit my lower lip and thought a moment, deciding to be honest with him.

“I’m scared,” I admitted and he gave me a curt nod.

“You should be,” was his answer, and though it frightened me further, it lit my insides on fire. He moved into the room and to the far wall where all the instruments lay. I took a timid step toward him but I decided to wait by the door, my shoulders slumped forward in an attempt to make myself smaller. He had not told me to wait and so I was not sure what I was expected to do. I saw him take a long, thin cane from the wall and I swallowed hard. He turned to look back at me and I took an involuntary step backward. He seemed to think this funny because he smiled softly.

“The rattan cane is one of the most dangerous instruments of corporal punishment. It is still used in Singapore for offenses like kidnapping, robbery, murder, drug abuse, vandalism, rioting, molestation and rape. Tomorrow morning when you return home, you will look up pictures of such punishments online so you can fully understand the power I wield with this simple piece of wood. Understand?”

I nodded but I felt like my stomach was in my toes and my heart in my throat. I did not need to really see the pictures.

“When I speak to you you will answer me,” he ordered, his voice ice cold.

“Y-yes master. I’m sorry,” I rushed out and he gave me a nod. I can only imagine how tight and strained my voice must have sounded.

“Tonight we will address positions and the schedule of your training, should you decide at the end of our session to return to me,” he said but I wanted to shout to him that I would return for as long as he wanted me too. But I knew he would not like an outburst and the rational part of me knew that I had not experienced the feel of that cane in his hand. I might not want to return after tonight. “Is that acceptable?”

“Yes master… I mean, if it is acceptable to you,” I added and his little, arrogant smile intensified. 

“It is,” he answered. “Remove your clothing.”

I sputtered and saw annoyance flash over his handsome face. I had never been naked in front of a man before. I had fooled around, but always stopped when he wanted to undress. I was in good shape. I knew I was attractive, but letting someone see me naked was too personal, too intimate. I did not want to anger him though and I slipped my robe off of my shoulders with a hard swallow. I hesitated only a moment on my slip, but the little reassuring nod I received from Brooks gave me the little push I needed. I through it over my head and held it in front of me. His eyes raked over me slowly.

“Drape the slip and robe over the discipline post,” he ordered and I looked around. I blushed in embarrassment. Should I guess on which one it is or should I ask him, admitting to my ignorance? I looked at him and the look of his harsh, expectant gaze made my feet move. It was like I was in a daze. I could hardly think. All I knew was Brooks had told me to do something and I wanted to do it for him. I wanted to obey him and please him and make him happy. It was the strongest, most irrational feeling I had ever experienced, but I needed it. I wanted his praise and acceptance. When I was done draping it over the post I looked back at him with hopeful eyes and I was crushed to see him shaking his head with cool disappointment.

“That is called a hitching post,” he informed me and I looked down at the ground. I reached out for the robe but yelped when I felt a painful sting on my knuckles. I looked up to see him standing over me, the cane poised for another blow. I trembled, and I ran the safe word over and over again in my head, but I did not say it. I didn’t want it to be over, even it meant being hurt.

“An important rule, slave,” he said and I felt my pussy tighten and I wet my thong further. I wondered if he could smell my arousal. I certainly could. “If you do not know something, you will tell me. I am here to guide you, to teach you. Had you guessed correctly what would that have taught you? To lie to your master, the man who is going to care for you and protect you. How can I see to your needs if you keep them from me? How can I ever feel secure if I think you are not telling me the truth?”

He paused and I looked down, suddenly very guilty, but touched at the way he explained the master/slave relationship. I wanted to be taken care of and protected. Giving myself to someone completely, giving them power of my life, made me feel safe. My heart seemed to swell and I felt myself growing emotional.

“Of all the rules that I require you to obey, this is by far the most important. You must, at all times, be open and honest with me. Any questions?” he asked and I nodded.

“I don’t want to be disrespectful,” I said and he nodded. He seemed to understand my fear without making me voice it. He seemed to already be in my head.

“Questioning direct commands is not allowed, however, if you do not understand something, or if you are in too much pain you are allowed to tell me,” he said.

“Do I use my safeword?”

“No,” he said firmly and held up a finger. I flinched but when I saw he was not going to hit me I calmed down. “A safeword is for extreme circumstances in the type of BDSM community this is, the type of BDSM that I believe in. You use a safeword when you have true fear. Not standard fear. You will feel fear often, especially during training. I mean if you think that you will be unable to withstand something or if my desires no longer coincide with yours. For example, give me something that you would never allow.”

I hesitated, unsure if this was a trap.

“I… I don’t want to be given to other men… or have more than one at the same time,” I said and he seemed pleased at that. Most would probably give an actual sex act. I cared only for being the sole property of my master. I did not want anyone else to know me sexually than this man standing in front of me.

“So, now that you have told me that, I must take it into my consideration,” he explained tilting his head to the side slightly, his eyes moving over my face. “Now, since you have voiced this concern to me, and I insist on sending you out that door right now, and letting every man in this club spill himself in that went little cunt right now, you would use your safeword, because I am deliberately acting against what I know is not only your desire but in your best interest. Were I to order that I would virtually be in effect facilitating the emotional rape of my charge. The safe word is used when I have violated my responsibilities as your master. Do you understand?”

I nodded. He raised the cane and used it to point at my face, his eye brows rising.

“Always answer me vocally.”

“Yes master,” I said. He nodded.

“Good. This is a hitching post. That,” he raised a strong arm and pointed a slender, elegant finger toward the opposite side of the room, “is a discipline post, and I think that this is a perfect time to teach you what it is for. Leave the clothing here.”

I felt my stomach turn in fear and he walked over to the discipline post. I followed and felt my limbs tremble, but my nipples hardened. I shivered as he rapped a leather cord around my neck and then clipped it a little metal circle on the little post. It was about four feet tall and he grabbed my arms, moving me so I was on the platform the wooden pole came out of.

“Bend at the knee,” he ordered and I knelt down. “Ass out.”

I did the best I could to obey but my thighs almost immediately began to ache. 

“Good girl,” he hummed and stroked my ass with the end of the cane. I felt my chest swell and my legs felt stronger. “Five lashes for your dishonesty.”

I wanted to shout that I was not dishonest, I only kept quiet, but I knew that would only make things worse. Plus, how painful could only five lashes be?

“You will count each strike, and when I am finished you will thank me for taking my valuable time to discipline you,” he ordered and I nodded. I remember and then added a, “yes master.”

The cane came down on my ass and I let out a cry. It hurt more than I had imagined it would. I bit down on my lip as I grit out the number one.

“Ah, I have wondered so long what your cries of pain would sound like,” he said and hit me again. I counted and he spoke again, “it is sweeter than I could have ever imagined.”

I was struck again and I felt a tear in my eye.

“Three,” I wept and pressed my forehead to the post in front of me. 

“I wait in giddy anticipation for your cries of pleasure,” he said calmly and swatted me again.

“Four!” 

I turned to look back at him over my shoulder. He looked so powerful and imperious standing there with the cane in his hand, his black suit perfectly in place. 

“Turn back,” he said and gently guided my face with the cane. He hit me one last time, the hardest of all of them, and I moaned.

“Five,” I bit out. I heard Brooks’ feet behind me and then the feel of the cane gently moving down my spine.

“Slave,” he said softly.

“Thank – thank you, master, for taking the time to punish me,” I said.

“I prefer the term discipline, but either is fine,” he mused. I felt him unhitch the leash around my neck from the post and winced. It would be more comfortable if I had a collar, but it was simply wrapped around my neck once and fastened. I did not really understand why he didn’t just put a collar on me. He tugged on the lead and I looked up at him, my ass stinging, my nipples hard, and my pussy wet.

“This,” he said. “This is where women belong.”

As chauvinistic and misogynistic as that sounded it did something to my body. My pussy clenched and a swirling of pleasure swarmed through me. I watched as he brought the hand not on my leash to his trousers, rubbing the growing bulge there. I was warmed with the knowledge that I had done that. His attentions to me had aroused him. I felt pride in my chest and I smiled up at him. 

“Positions,” he said and his hand left his hardening cock. I found myself disappointed. I had come close to sucking a cock, but had chickened out. I had given a few hand jobs in my day, but had never been intimately acquainted with a man’s throbbing organ. 

“We will go through the basic seven. These are common, widely accepted positions. I have my own more specific variants. We will go into those should you decided to return to me. Nod but stay silent if you understand.”

I nodded but I was confused. He had told me to always answer him vocally. It was a rule but he just told me to stay silent. Unsure of what to do I followed the most immediate rule and remained silent.

“Good. Always obey general rules when I say nothing. When I give specific instructions obey those,” he paused. “Understand?”

Now what did I do? He had told me to stay silent only once, but did that rule stand until he said we were going back to the other rules? Or did I only stray from the accepted rules when specifically stated. He waited, watching the confusion work its way over my face. Finally I spoke.

“Yes master,” I said and he smiled.

“Good girl,” he said. “Stand in the center of the room.” 

I hurried to obey. He dropped the leather lead but it remained around my neck, dangling down below my knees. I waited for an order standing straight and still.

“Position one,” he told me sternly. “This is the position you would go into in situations like now. When you are waiting for further instruction or meeting my friends. Now would be a good time to inform you that if you return to me, my friends will be seeing you naked, probably often, but they will never touch. Understand?”

I nodded.

“Yes Master,” I told him. He spoke, using his cane to direct me into the right position. I wished he would use his hands. I wanted to feel them on me. 

“Arms behind your back, fists together just above your hips. No, slave, like your hands are punching each other. Yes, good. Breasts out for proper viewing. You are a piece of meat now, slave, something to be examined and appraised. Now legs spread, no no no, not so far yes yes like that, good,” he mused and tapped the inside of my thighs with his cane. “Now hold.”

He backed away from me and circled me slowly. I felt the cane on my ass once but in a light, teasing manner. As if testing its firmness. He made no noise, but I hoped he was pleased. I would be sure to go to the gym tomorrow if he wasn’t.

“Now that is a sight,” he said softly, to himself I knew not me. I felt proud once again. I yelped and jerked when he swung the cane down, smacking one of my thighs. 

“I said hold,” he scolded severely and I put myself back into the position. I waited, my thighs trembling with the pain. That had hurt worse than any of the five he gave me earlier. “That will bruise.”

I said nothing.

“Lower to your knees,” he ordered and I did with shaky legs. My knees hurt against the hard floor but I held it. I was sure pain was evident on my face as he circled me. “This is the position you will go to when I have company and they have examined you. A proud master always shows off his property.”

“Yes Master,” I bit out.

“You will be expected to hold this position for hours at times. Practice it when you can. It is hard on ones thighs,” he told me and I nodded.

“Yes master,” I replied again.

“Position three. Sit down on your feet and place your palms face down on your thighs,” he ordered and I did my best to obey. “Shoulders straight slave.” 

“I will put you in this position if I decide you have deserved the relief from your legs. It is also the position you will enter into when I prepare your food one of the position where you will pleasure me orally. Understand?” He asked and I nodded. My thong was completely soaked through at this point.

“Now, this is my favorite,” he smiled. “Lean forward. Yes like that. Now lift up your ass and spread your arms out on the floor before you. Yes. This is Supplication and Presentation One. I believe those are self explanatory.”

“Yes master.” 

“Five, on all fours,” he ordered. “Probably the easiest to remember, yes?”

“Yes master.”

“This is when I wish you to crawl after me, when I require a foot rest, or when I wish to mount you from behind,” he informed me. “Six. On your feet again. Up.”

I stood and he bent me over by pressing on the back of my shoulders with his cane.

“Grab onto your ankles,” he ordered. “No real purpose for this one. It is merely another means in which I can feast my eyes on you.”

“Yes master,” I breathed.

“Good, now on your back,” he said and I moved to the ground quickly. “Bring your knees up to your chest, firmly grasp your ankles. No, no, slave, keep your pussy open for me. That’s my pussy now and if I want to see it I will.”

I nodded and pulled my legs apart. My sex pulsed again my wet thong and my nipples ached. He took the cane and raised it slowly, and my chest heaved as I waited. He pressed it against my wet hole, pushing against the soaked fabric.

“You whore,” he said and a soft smile ghosted over his face. “How many cocks have fucked that dripping cunt?”

I sucked in a breath. I hated that word, but when he said it, and said it about my pussy, it melted my insides into liquid magma.

“None, master,” I breathed and his eyes narrowed. I prayed he would believe me. I was twenty three and a virgin. A lot of people did not believe me, and I was sometimes embarrassed by it, but I did not want him to think I was a liar. I might have said one or two just to appear more believable but I did not want to tell him something that was not true. He had a rule about honesty and openness. I wanted to obey. 

“You are a virgin?”

“Yes master,” I breathed, but it sounded like I was begging. I needed him to believe me.

“You are not lying to me. That cunt,” he pressed the cane harder into my pussy and I bit back a moan. “Has never had a cock?”

“No master, never, I promise!” I cried out. He laughed, deep in his throat, a cruel chuckle almost, and he prodded my sex.

“A virgin,” he murmured and I could see in his eyes he believed me. He looked so pleased, looking me over, lying on my back, legs spread, in only a cum drenched thong. “Do not move.”

He left me then, leaving the room. I held the position and I did not have to wait long. I was pleased he had returned but when I heard an extra pair of footsteps and another male voice I felt myself flush with humiliation. The only thing that kept me from shouting out my safeword, which was resting on my lips, were his words from earlier. The second man chuckled as he circled me and the smile on Brooks’ face made me shiver with fear and arousal. He looked like a predator.

“I am jealous,” the second man said. “And you believe she is a virgin?”

“I do,” Brooks’ said. His friend squatted down and rested on the balls of his feet. Brooks moved down to do the same in front of me. I had never felt so violated, to humiliated, so demeaned, and so hot and aroused in my life. I felt fingers tug the thong to the side and looked up to make sure it was Brooks. I tensed when I saw it wasn’t but he caught eye and I felt slightly comforted. The friend whistled.

“Now that’s a cunt,” he mused and actually licked his lips. “If she commits to you would you rent her out to me?”

“No,” Brooks said firmly.

“Of course not,” the friend said. “I certainly wouldn’t share that.”

I felt a finger brush against me and I jerked to the side abruptly.

“Shh,” Brooks nearly cooed. I calmed when I saw it was his hand, his friend was only holding my underwear to the side. Slowly one of Brooks’ long fingers slid into my opening and I could not hold in my moan. The friend laughed. A vulgar laugh, but the man’s laugh, with the satisfied smirk on Brooks’ face made me even hotter. My face burned and my thighs trembled. Another moan left my lips as he moved his finger.

“Yes, that’s a virgin cunt,” Brooks nodded. “Slave, my friend here is going to insert a finger inside of you, to feel your tightness. When a virgin comes in it is rare, one requires a witness for others to believe him. I would very much like the prestige that comes with possessing a virgin. Now, if you will do this for me, say ‘Anything to please my master’, if you are not comfortable with it, say ‘orange’ and I will send him away. I will not be angry with you.”

I bit my bottom lip hard.

“Promise it won’t happen again?” I asked. I knew he gave me two options of replies, but I was unsure and scared and he said he wanted honesty and openness.

“I promise, and if you do not believe me, then believe this. Virgins are rare, especially in this world. Most that come here have been used. For a man to own a woman who has only ever known him, has only ever been trained to pleasure him… it is the ultimate power trip.”

I believed that. I also believed he was possessive by nature and so I nodded.

“Anything to please my master,” I whispered.

“Make it quick,” Brooks’ said and the friend’s finger slipped into inside me.

“Wetter than the Mississippi and tighter than a drum,” he said and removed his finger. My eyes widened when he brought his fingers to his mouth. “I envy you.”

The friend stood and but Brooks remained kneeling before me. His hands caressed the inside of my thighs. The friend left the room and shut the door, leaving them alone once again.

“You will commit to me,” he told me plainly. “You will sign the club contract and become my slave permanently.”

“Yes master,” I breathed out, nodding. I could not say no to this man. Not right now. “Please…”

“Please what, whore?” he asked and his finger slipped back inside of me. My pussy clenched around him and he grinded his teeth. 

“Let me come?”

“No,” he said, but slowly pumped his finger. “You don’t get release tonight.”

“Why!” I cried and moaned when his thumb brushed over my clit. I cried out when I felt a hard slap to my pussy, centering on my clit.

“Because I said no!” he boomed. His voice was so strong and commanding that I nearly forgot to breath.

“I’m sorry,” I finally breathed out.

“You will go now,” he said and I wanted to cry. “You go home and you will not touch yourself understand?”

I nodded. I cried out when I felt another slap to my pussy.

“Yes master I understand!” 

“You will arrange the week off of work. You will call the club and set up the training week. Training will take place at my home, but it must be done through the club for your safety, understand?”

“Yes master,” I breathed. I wanted to sob. He kept pumping his finger inside of me, working me up but I knew I could not cum. It was like he was trying to bring me up to the very bring before leaving me hanging. His skill was amazing, for when I felt myself reaching climax he pulled away and stood.

“Up,” he ordered. I got to my feet and he brought me over to the hitching post that my robe and slip rested on. He slipped it over my head and pulled the robe over me, tying it in my middle protectively. “You will sleep in this at night and think of me.”

I nodded. I would be thinking about him constantly the next few days. How could I now?

“I will lead you back to Carter. He will bring you to your close and make sure you get to your car. Are you well enough to drive or do you want me to get a car?”

“I can drive,” I whispered. “Master.” 

He nodded and led me through the club. The friend that had helped examine me was leaning against a white sofa, a slave girl at his feet, licking his shoes. He was looking down at her with a satisfied smirk before looking up. He leered and winked at me. I immediately looked away and then back up at Brooks’ broad powerful back.

“May I hug you?” I asked him when we arrived at Carter.

“Yes, but once training begins our physical comfort will be suspended until I deem you worthy of a collar. Understand?”

“Yes master,” I whispered. A woman in leather, a woman I recognized as Mistress Kathleen walked by, a young man on a leash, following behind. She inhaled deeply and cackled at me. She patted Brooks’ on the arm and gave him a knowing smile.

“Come here, slave,” he said gently, spreading his arms open. I went into them, wrapping my arms around his middle tightly. The hug did not last long enough. One moment I was snuggled and cocooned in strong arms, against a warm chest and the next I was being nudged away gently. My pussy was wet and hot, my stomach ached, my face was on fire and I was so confused. I wanted more hugs from him. I wanted to cuddle but I was too afraid to ask. Had Carter not been there I might have gotten on my knees and begged for just one more hug, but I had too much pride for that. 

He will cure me of that soon enough, I thought to myself.

“Call and get the time taken off,” he said again and I nodded. He gave me an amused. “I will see you tomorrow. I trust you will wait on me?”

I nodded. I would do everything in my power to make sure I waited at his table. 

“I want a large French vanilla coffee with one sugar and two creams and a cinnamon bun with extra frosting,” he told me. “Will you remember that for me?”

I nodded.

“Of course, master,” I said and I repeated it over and over again in my head. He smiled.

“Good,” he pointed a finger at me. “No touching yourself. I will ask you tomorrow, and I will know if you are lying.”

“Yes master,” I said.

“Good. Go,” he said and turned to leave. I watched until he was out of sight before turning toward Carter.

“He likes you,” Carter said as we walked toward the locker that held my clothing. “I’ve never seen him hug a slave before.”

I drove home with a large smile plastered across my face.


	3. III

I did not get any sleep when I returned to my small apartment. The mix of emotions and sensations I was feeling was far too intense. Physically, my skin was hot, my bottom and thighs ached and I had such a buildup of exquisite pleasure between my legs and in my lower stomach that I was nearly driven mad. But I did not touch myself. Many times as I lay in bed that night my hand wandered to the wet heat between my legs but I always stopped before touching myself. A few times my roommate called into my room to tell me to be quiet. I was groaning in frustration and punching my pillows every few minutes. I simply could not get comfortable. When I got out of bed to use the bathroom I could see one stripe on my thigh that had turned a dark purple. While my bottom was still red and stung badly, it was nothing compared to the swipe of the leg.

Because I could not sleep I decided to go to the internet and do what Brooks had told me to do at the beginning of our session. I looked up what a cane could do to a person’s flesh. I had appreciated the power he wielded, with or without the cane. He was physically superior to me and he no doubt could have done terrible things to me if he wanted, but when I had thought of being hit with a cane or a paddle in the past I had always just thought it would hurt and I would bruise. I never considered the splitting of the skin, the abrasions, that could occur. Some of the pictures actually turned my stomach and I had to exit out of the screen.

I looked Xavier Brooks up online next, just out of curiosity. His picture came up along with tones of online news articles. My stomach quivered as I looked at his picture. His eyes and hair were dark, his skin tan, and on his thin lips was a crooked little smile. That he wanted me completely blew my mind. I had trouble comprehending it. I was attractive, but I was hardly in the same league as Xavier Brooks. I did not think I was even in a league below him. Thirty one years old and he was a multi-millionaire. A self made multi-millionaire. I was twenty three, working two minimum wage jobs and hardly getting myself through school. And Brooks had come from a worse background than I did. I could hardly make excuses for myself. He was dominant and determined and ruthless and it had clearly worked out for him in his professional life. Apparently he had so much dominance and ruthlessness that it carried over to his sex life and for whatever reason, he wanted me apart of it.

Upon further research I discovered that he owned the apartment complex I lived in. It made me tingle slightly and in an odd way I felt closer to him. When I went back to bed my emotional confusion returned. When I had been on the computer I had been able to focus on something else. Laying in the dark silence of my room I was forced to face everything. I was scared of what had happened. Brooks and those at the club clearly took BDSM far more seriously than most people did and more than I even thought I would. This was a way of life for them. As far as Brooks was concerned when I signed that contract, which I intended to do, I was his slave, his property. It was terrifying.

But I wanted more. The way I had felt when he hugged me, when he wrapped his arms around me… I had felt safe and secure. I had wanted his approval, I had wanted to please him and when his arms closed around me my heart had sung. I would put myself through anything to experience that again. And the feeling of being on my knees in front of such a powerful man… I cannot put it into words.

I groaned and scrubbed my hand over my face.

“Oh, God. Something is wrong with me,” I moaned and rolled onto my stomach.

“Shut up!” I heard my roommate yell but I ignored her. The walls were like paper.

I got up at five, the time I normally did, and the terrible pressure in my stomach had subsided. That had truly been torture. I showered again, (I had showered when I got home from the club), and prepared for work. I was terrified of seeing Brooks again, but my heart fluttered with excitement. I got to work early and switched my tables with Kelsey. She was bullshit when she came in, there is hardly a better word to describe it. She flirted with Brooks shamelessly when he came into the coffee shop and was clearly annoyed at what I had done.

“Bull fucking shit,” she said to me when she read the listing and switched it back.

“I just want to switch it up –” 

“You want to wait on the fucking hotty that comes in at table six every day. Xavier Brooks. No fucking way. He comes to my table. He knows I get table six. If he wanted you he’d switch,” she told me and my face burned red. She thought she was better than me and it drove me crazy. I was smart. I might not have gotten loads of scholarships but I was in one of the best graduate schools in the country. Kelsey might have been younger and prettier than me, but Brooks had chosen me. Not her.

When the coffee shop opened at six we both went to our normal tables. Right on time Brooks came in at seven thirty, his briefcase in his right hand, and his cell phone in his left, pressed to his ear. It suddenly occurred to me, after weeks of seeing him in the shop, and all last night, that he was left handed. He sat down as he hung up his phone and put it in his pocket. I was at two tables over from him when Kelsey walked over to him, a bright flirty (I say slutty) smile on her face. I felt a little sting of jealously in my chest as I watched. Brooks’ eyes slowly moved upward toward Kelsey, bored and disdainful.

“What can I get you today, Mr. Brooks?” she asked sweetly.

“Nothing,” he said curtly. His eyes turned on me. “I want her.”

Kelsey’s face fell and I could not help the small smile of triumph that came to my face.

“Of course,” Kelsey said stonily. She walked over to her next table and I hurried into the back. I got a fresh cup of French vanilla blend and put in one sugar and two creams. I got the biggest, warmest, and freshest cinnamon bun, got out an extra scoop of vanilla frosting, and hurried back out to his table. I placed it in front of him and waited.

“Thank you, Katie,” he said and I smiled. The sound of my name on his lips was heavenly. He pronounced the T sharply, as opposed to making it sound more like a D. He glanced up at me and we locked eyes. I struggled to hold eye contact and just as I looked down I saw a little smile come to his lips. “Did you sleep well last night?”

He sipped at his coffee and placed it in front of him.

“No, sir,” I said. I hoped he would not mind me calling him sir. He could not possibly expect me to call him master in public. He seemed satisfied with the address and smiled.

“I bet not,” he replied. “And did you… follow my instructions?”

I knew he meant did I touch myself and so I nodded frantically.

“I did,” I told him. He took a knife in his left hand and began to spread it over the cinnamon bun.

“I told you I wanted you to be at my table today,” he mused as if he were talking about the weather. I licked my lips quickly.

“I switched our table charts but she was angry. She wanted to wait on you specifically and said that if you wanted me you would have moved to a table that I waited. Since we are on the same tables every morning. She –”

“No excuses,” he said calmly and I fell silent. “When I tell you to do something you do it. You find a way. It is that simple.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him.

“I am not angry,” he said simply. “Have you put in a request for time off yet?”

“No, I’ll do that at the end of my shift. I called my other job and they said it would be no problem,” I answered.

“You work more than one job?” he asked and I nodded. “That will cease. Quit one.”

I stared at him in shock before I shook my head.

“I… I can’t sir. I can barely pay my bills –”

“I will be paying your bills,” he cut me off and my eyes widened.

“Sir –”

“It is give and take, Katie,” he said and for the first time since he arrived his eyes turned back on mine. “I take a lot, but I will give just as much. Only the means differ.”

“Sir, if I may?” I asked and he nodded. I could feel my boss staring daggers at me on the other side of the little coffee shop. I was neglecting my other tables but he would not dare say anything. Not when I was speaking to Xavier Brooks. “I would feel like I was being paid for sex. I’d feel like a whore.”

He took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his bun.

“We will discuss this when we draw up the contract. All this will be inside of it. There are things you do not understand. You will quite one of your jobs,” he said again. I looked around. “I would have you quit both if I were not so busy. Then you would be able to spend more times on me.”

“I really don’t mean to be disrespectful….” I waited but I could see no annoyance on his face. 

“Go on,” he encouraged me.

“If… when our relationship ends and I am left to fend for myself again, I will be unable to pay my bills. I want to retain my independence.”

“Then you are talking to the wrong man,” he said tersely and I realized he was right. He was being straight forward with what he expected. He wasn’t trying to trick me. “In our contract I will write that if our relationship comes to an end I will pay you a stipend until you are able to find a second job.” 

“Ok,” I said with a sigh of releif. “Thank you.”

“I will always try to ease your fears,” he told me. “You are perfect for me, Katie. I can see it. You will blossom under my hand.” 

“I should go check on table seven,” I mumbled with a blush. “My boss looks like he could kill me.”

Brooks looked over at my boss. The moment he did my boss disappeared into the back, looking away immediately.

“Can I get you anything else?” I asked Brooks and he shook his head. He waved me away with a dismissive hand. The guests at table seven were annoyed that I took so long, on what they knew was a social call, but I was always very good with guests and immediately turned them around.

When I heard Brooks’ voice I whirled around to check on what he wanted, but saw that he was on the phone. He leaned back in his chair, spinning his empty coffee cup in circled on the table with his finger as he spoke. He glanced at me and winked. I blushed and looked back to the table I was helping. When I got back into the back my boss gave me a stern talking to. Kelsey was his favorite employee and she had clearly said something to him. 

“Do you think stealing a person’s best tipping customer is alright?” he asked me.

“He asked for me specifically. What was I supposed to do? Say no?” I spat at him. I hated my employer. He was rude, mean, and unfair, but I needed the job. I vaguely considered quitting this one. I would have to ask Brooks about it.

“Yes,” he blustered and I was amazed. He was always telling us it was always what the customer wanted. All that mattered was what the customer wanted and now he was telling me to have ignored his direct request.

“I’ll give the tip to Kelsey if it bothers you that much,” I told him and turned my back to him to pour a fresh cup of coffee. 

“That won’t be necessary. You’re fired,” he said and I turned around.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked him. 

“Finish the shift and then don’t come back. You’ll get paid through the end of the week,” he snapped and I stared after him.

“No, fuck this,” I muttered and ripped off my apron. “Finish my shift yourself.”

He sputtered after me but I was so angry. Of all the things I could have been fired over. He had always disliked me, ever since I spilled that cup of coffee on that lawyer a few months ago. He had never come back to the shop and he had been looking for reasons to fire me ever since. I would never have been able to get a reference from him anyway. I might as well earn it. Brooks was still on the phone when I came from the back and I went to stand by his table, ringing my fingers in my hands. He glanced up at me, saw the lack of apron and frowned.

“I will call you back,” he said and hung up the phone.

“I just wanted to tell you I was leaving,” I said and he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“I was just fired,” I told him and forced a laugh. “I guess I don’t need to choose which job to quit now.”

“Fired?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Some pretense for swapping the table cards I’m sure. Since you tip so well, they think I was trying to get your tip money.”

“That is ridiculous,” he mused and reached into his pocket. He paid for the coffee and cinnamon bun and then glanced at the watch on his left wrist. “Where is your other job?”

“I’m a department supervisor for the bakery at the wall mart on fifth,” I blushed.

“Did you drive here?”

I shook my head.

“I walked. It’s only a few blocks and I wanted to save gas,” I told him and he nodded. He stood and I took a step back. My head came up to the center of his chest and he was only a foot away from me. I felt my cheeks heat as I remembered last night. How he had seen every inch of me. 

“Call the club when you have the taken the time off,” he told me. He held the front door open for me and I moved past him. “Set up a meeting for drawing up the contract.”

“Do I need a lawyer?” I asked him and he gave a little smile and shook his head.

“The club has lawyers to represent both parties. They are neutral, employed by the club’s owner,” he told me. 

“Who is the club’s owner?” I asked curiously. I did not expect him to give me a name I would recognize, but I wanted to know none the less. 

“Adrian Renwick,” he told me. He tilted his head. “He fingered you last night.” 

I blushed deeply and looked down.

“Oh.” 

“He’ll be present at the meeting,” he told me. “Now I have a meeting to get to in Midtown.”

“You didn’t drive?” I called as he began walking down the highway.

“I prefer the subway to driving in the city,” he called back over his shoulder. “Good day Katie.” 

I stood watching him until he was completely out of sight.

_

Adrian Renwick was a smug looking man who dressed in business casual attire. He wore simple black slacks, and a silk blue dress shirt. He sat behind his desk, a lazy smile on his face that made my skin crawl. He looked over me like I was cattle at an auction and I knew he was remembered the first night we had met. He was handsome, nothing compared to Brooks, but handsome. Judging by the way he spoke to Brooks the two were friends outside of the club. His voice was slightly high for a man, but he was so confident and sure of himself that it did not affect his looks in anyway. 

Brooks sat next to me listening to the lawyer make all the introductions. Mistress Kathleen sat to my right with her slave boy Aaron. Aaron was not wearing a collar or attached to his leash. He was there to be a representative of a slave, to explain things to me that I might not understand. In the past a sub had complained that during the contract write up she had been intimidated by all the dominants in the room. This was supposed to protect the club against a lawsuit. 

“Alright, let’s begin,” the lawyer started. “Am I correct that this is a total power exchange, and not the standard slave contract?”

I realized that he was speaking directly to me. It occurred to me that this meeting would be virtually run by me, what I was willing to do. It would be my very last vestige of independence and power I would have for months. I bit my lip and glanced at Brooks. 

“Don’t look at him,” Renwick said sternly and I looked toward him quickly. “He is not allowed to influence you.”

I nodded and apologized.

“Yes, total power exchange,” I told the lawyer. He nodded. He had a laptop in front of him and he looked at it a moment.

“Alright. ‘This contract is a binding agreement that will define terms, interactions, and relationship between Xavier Brooks and Catherine Woodward, the hereafter mentioned Master and slave. Both the undersigned have entered into this arrangement freely and voluntarily with no threat of emotional, physical, or monetary threat or retaliation. This is a legal and binding contract enforceable by law, intended to protect both parties. This contract cannot be broken except if the conditions stated herein are violated by either party.’ Is this acceptable to both parties?”

I waited for Brooks to say ‘Yes’ before I did. I really did not know what most of this meant, what was right and wrong in a situation like this, and so I decided to trust in Brooks’ judgment.

“’Section 1.0 Master’s Obligations. The Master has an obligation to care for the slaves physical and emotional needs. He has the right over all decisions regarding the slaves well being, freedoms, and punishments. All the Slave’s worldly possessions are now the possession of her Master. The Master has the responsibility to make sure the slave is at all times well fed and cleaned. Should the slave come to any harm the blame lies entirely with the master, named undersigned.’ Simple to understand?”

“Yes,” we both said again and I bit my lip.

“Wait,” I said before the lawyer could move on. All eyes fell on me and I bit my lower lip hard. “Where it says everything I own is his… what does that mean?”

“Slaves own nothing,” Renwick told me. “Everything you have is due to the good graces of your master. The moment the contract is up, should you decide not to renew it, it will all go back to you.”

“Shouldn’t that be in there somewhere?” I asked and Brooks smiled softly.

“I have no objection,” he stated. The lawyer nodded and began typing.

“Of course,” he said blandly and wrote it all in. He read it back to me and I nodded, pleased with the addition.

“Section 2.0 Slave’s obligations. The Slave is obligated to submit completely to their Master. At no place, at no time and in no situation is the slave admitted to willfully refuse her Master’s order. Refusal to any order that does not fall into the slaves veto (section2.1) will result in any punishment of the Master’s choosing as long as it does not fall within the slaves veto power (section 2.1). The Slave submits that their body belongs to their Master, to be used as seen fit, within the guidelines defined herein. All of the Slave's possessions likewise belong to the Master, including all assets, finances, and material goods, to do with as they see fit (to be returned upon termination or ending of contract). The Slave agrees to please the Master to the best of her ability, in that they now exist solely for the pleasure of said Master.’ Suitable?”

“What is the slave veto?” I asked and the lawyer flashed me an annoyed glance.

“I’m getting to that,” he said shortly. “Anything to do with section 2.0?”

I glanced over at Brooks but he was looking straight again.

“Edward, manners,” Renwick scolded the lawyer. “She’s a virgin.”

I blushed, knowing he meant to the BDSM world, but he winked at me, revealing another meaning. 

“’Section 2.1 Slave Veto,” Edward started and gave me a hard look. “The Slave has the right to refuse any command or order that violates the boundaries stated in this section of total power exchange contract. These boundaries are agreed upon by both Master and Slave and are as follows, One, when orders conflict with laws that may lead in fines or arrest of slave. Two, when orders may damage slave’s social or professional life, such as exposing secret to family, friends, or employers. Three, when permanent bodily harm may result. Four, when order may cause prolonged emotional or psychological trauma to the slave.’ Now these are the clubs boundaries. Are there any master or slave would like to add.”

Brooks looked at me and I waited. I started to shake my head and say no but Brooks brought up a hand to silence me. 

“Katie,” Brooks said softly and turned toward me. “I have all the power in the relationship. If I do not want something done, it won’t be done. This section, this contract, is for your protection, not mine. I don’t need to have anything added.”

“I don’t really know what to put in. I mean, I don’t know a lot about sex. But, I don’t want to be pricked with things,” I said and Edward looked at Renwick.

“I am to put “Master shall not prick slave with things” then?” he asked dryly and I flushed.

“No breaking or penetrating skin,” Renwick phrased for him and smiled. 

“I don’t want other men to touch me,” I said and Edward looked to Brooks.

“No objections,” Brooks said.

“Now that’s a shame,” Renwick murmured. I struggled to think of something else and everyone waited patiently. Mistress Kathleen eyed me harshly and I bit my lower lip, glancing over at Brooks for help. After a few moments of thought he spoke and I let out a deep, shaky breath.

“Let us do things this way,” he suggested. “Adrian do you have any Master applications for the club with you?”

Adrian looked into his desk and nodded.

“Get me the page with the fetish lists on it,” he said and Adrian handed it over to him. He looked it over and handed it to me. “Read every one, and which ever ones you do not want, tell Edward. And remember, these are only hard limits. Things you would never submit too. If you think you might like it if you were forced, or might like to try it, it does not go in the contract.” 

I nodded and began to read. I was amazed at the size of it.

“No abrasions,” I said right off the bat. “I don’t want to be sanded.”

“No objections.”

“I don’t want any branding,” I told him.

“That would fall under physical harm. The club does not allow branding, but Edward may add it if you wish,” Renwick told me and I nodded. I’d rather it be in there.

“Cutting,” I said and Brooks nodded.

“It is the same as branding but it can be added,” he said, his voice smooth.

“If you take pictures of me you won’t give them away or put them online right?” I asked.

“Of course not,” Brooks replied simply. I nodded and made no objection. “It would risk my own exposure. Privacy is something we all value here.”

“That’s all,” I said and Brooks’ raised his eyebrows.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s more exciting the less I put down,” I said and he nodded in understanding.

By the time the contract was finished it was nearly seven pages long. Brooks and Edward got into a fight over working on the punishment section. Brooks wanted it to be termed discipline, but Edward refused and Renwick sided with Edward. Brooks huffed but accepted the terminology. I was slightly comforted by the section that outlined bodily harm, which included most of my greatest fears. Besides physical harm like broken bones and broken skin there was loss of consciousness, permanent scarring, risk of sexually transmitted diseases (but this was for masters that shared their slaves mostly) and piercing against the will of the slave.

A clause was also added that said the contract would be breached if either of us sought out another love. I didn’t like that Brooks could end the relationship at any point, but that I could not get out until the end of the contract, which was six months. I agreed none the less and signed it. Renwick also signed it as owner of the club, Kathleen signed it as a witness, and Edward notarized it. I also had to sign additional paperwork that said I was not threatened or coerced in anyway. 

“Brooks has waived his right to see your tests since he trusts you are a virgin,” Renwick said to me once it was signed. “I think it foolish but he is a big boy. Here are his test results.”

I looked at it in confusion.

“We will not be using condoms,” Brooks explained to me. “I will spill myself inside of you often. I have been tested for all major diseases. Both of us will be tested every six months.”

I nodded. I was ashamed that I had not even thought of that.

“I’m on the pill already,” I explained. “for regularity.”

“Stand up,” Brooks said, the tone of his voice drastically different than it had been the last three hours they were in the room. I looked up at him in some surprise.

“I said stand up, slave.”

I got to my feet, my eyes slightly wide. It had begun. A jolt of pleasure and fear rocketed through my limbs.

“On your knees,” he snapped and it was like he hit the gravity switch. I plummeted to my knees. I looked up at him and saw a cool smirk spread over his face. His eyebrows rose slightly and I knew there was a test coming.

“Position five,” he said and I felt dread wash over me. I closed my eyes to think, my lips moving as I spoke to myself silently. Which one was that? When I took the time off of work it was not for three weeks. As a result, three weeks and a day had passed since I had spent that night with him. Five on four. That was what I had said to remember it. I bit my bottom lip and moved onto all fours.

“Good girl,” he said and I let out a deep, shaky breath. “Gentlemen, Kathleen?”

I heard people getting up and moving but I remained perfectly still. I saw a pair of man’s black polished shoes come into my view, and then another, and then feminine pumps.

“Thank Master Adrian, Master Edward, and Mistress Kathleen for taking so much time on a lowly slave like you,” Brooks ordered.

“Thank you, Master Adrian, Master Edward and Mistress Kathleen,” I said and waited.

“Kiss their feet, slave, and thank them properly,” he ordered. My face burned bright red as I lowered my head and pressed my lip to one black leather shoe after the other. 

“I was tempted to leave the restriction on gangbangs out of the contract,” I heard Edward laugh. “Congratulations.”

There was handshaking and congratulations, but I remained on all fours on the ground.

“Follow me,” Brooks ordered and I moved to get up on my feet. “On your hands and knees.” 

I looked up and then got back onto my hands and knees. I followed him through the back halls of the club. I looked over to my right so see the young man that had sat in on the meeting was crawling next to me. When we got to a side door I was allowed to get back on my feet. I tried to look up at Brooks and his friends and was shocked when I felt a slap across my face. I flinched and immediately looked back down, my eyes watering more from shock than pain. 

“Face down,” he ordered and I obeyed.

“The doctor will come once a week every other day during training. Once training ends she will need to be examined once a month to make sure the contract is being fulfilled and she is not being mistreated,” I heard Renwick tell Brooks. Brooks nodded and I felt him move behind me. He placed a blindfold around my head and tied it firmly. My body trembled slightly when I felt my hands tugged behind my back and my wrists bound. Next came my ankles and I was scooped up into Brooks’ arms. I swallowed hard. I felt myself being carried and held onto his suit coat tightly.

“Now your training begins,” he told me and I was lowered down. It took only a second to realize where I had been placed. “Let’s hope you made the right decision.”

Before I could respond the trunk was shut and I was left in enclosed darkness.


	4. IV

I did not know where Brooks lived exactly, but the drive in the trunk felt like it lasted for an eternity. By the time I was lifted out of the trunk and into my new Masters strong arms I was hot, sweaty, more than a little anxious at the enclosed space, incredibly thirsty and more than a little hungry. But I made no complaints. I leaned into him with as much force as I could, tucking my head under his chin. I knew that at least for a week or two I would not be cuddled or stroked or cooed at. I would take the contact where I could. I wish I could have grabbed onto his clothing to hold him even more securely but my hands were still bound behind my back.

We walked for a few moments and I felt him reach into his pockets and retrieve what sounded like keys. We descended down stairs and then more doors were opened. I could feel we were in a basement of sorts because the air got significantly colder. When we finally arrived at our destination was I was dropped onto the ground with a thud and winced. Still bound and blindfolded I felt his hands on my shirt, a nice polo that I had bought specifically for the meeting. I wanted to look nice when I met everyone.

I gasped when I felt his mouth lower to my neck. I knew it because I could feel his breath. But instead of pressing his lips to my skin he bit at the fabric of my shirt, before ripping through it and tossing it to the side. I felt a blade slip between the cups of my braw as he cut the fabric away from my body. My jeans went next, then my underwear, and while his hands were rough and I felt a blade brush against my skin a few times I felt arousal simmering in my lower abdomen. To be manhandled and undressed like this was amazing and I felt myself believing I had made the right decision.

“I like my slaves to be dressed in lingerie for me, but as you are in training you do not have the right to clothing. After you complete each phase of the training you will acquire a piece of clothing. Your collaring will take place when you are fully dressed in the outfit I have designated for you.” 

He said this as he removed my shoes and socks, leaving me completely naked and still bound and blindfolded. I was lifted up once against and felt the rope cut off of my wrists. I was placed on an uncomfortable, hard wooden seat, my legs dangling over the side. My pussy pressed against the rough wood in a delicious friction. His hands grabbed my small wrists and brought them up toward the ceiling. He bound my hands with unpadded handcuffs toward what I assumed was some sort of suspension gear from the ceiling. I moaned when his hands grabbed my hips and lifted me up, moving me a fraction of an inch back.

“Do not tense up,” he ordered but my body did the opposite as I was lowered down onto an object. It was rather large and thick, and I was not so ignorant not to know it was a dildo or a vibrator. Brooks kept his hand son my hips until I was completely lowered down onto the vibrator. When his hands left me I wiggled slightly, feeling the dildo inside of me. It was uncomfortable, but it had been generously lubed up. He moved for a moment and then I felt him behind me, parting my ass cheeks. Despite having gotten completely waxed just the other day I was nervous as he examined me. I gasped when I felt something cold and wet at the entrance of my asshole.

“Calm yourself,” he said sternly. “The anal vibrator is small. I want to begin stretching you out.”

I nodded.

“Yes master.”

He pushed the vibrator inside of me and it only went in an inch or two.

“We shall begin with my rules,” he told me. His voice sounded like he was walking away. I heard the tell tale sound of the cane swishing through the air and my body began to tremble in anticipation. “Let me explain. How the next few hours are going to progress. When you please me I shall reward you….”

He trailed off and turned on the vibrators inside of me. My body tensed and arched and I let out a deep moan. It lasted only a few seconds but pleasure continued to slowly ripple through me.

“And when you displease me…”

I yelped when I felt a sharp stinging on my inner thigh. 

“Do you understand?”

“Yes master,” I breathed. 

“You are going to repeat after me, word for word,” he told me and I felt the cane trail over my outer thigh. My feet dangled in the air and I wondered how far off the ground I was. “My sole purpose in life is to see to the needs of my Master.”

“My sole purpose in life is to see to the needs of my Master,” I said with a shaky voice. 

“My Master’s needs come before all else.”

I repeated it back to him, my pussy clenching around the vibrator inside of me. 

“I will obey without hesitation and be thankful I am allowed to serve Him,” he said. He was behind me as I said it and I tried to turn my head to look toward him. It would make me feel closer to him. I regretted it when I felt a sharp swat to my bottom and I jerked slightly in pain.

“Face forward!”

I immediately obeyed but my thighs quivered.

“Repeat back to me my rules,” he ordered and I licked my lip. I was experiencing so many different feelings that it was difficult to really remember what I had just said. I knew the basic idea of what he had ordered, but I knew he wanted it back word for word. Perhaps if I was not so thirsty, so hungry, could take in my surroundings, was clothed… a whole manner of things, I might be able to comprehend what was going on. But my pussy and ass was stretched, my thighs stung and I was in darkness. Everything was so overwhelming. I scarcely knew what I was thinking myself. Still, I tried to answer correctly.

“My sole purpose in life is to see to the needs of my master,” I said and groaned in pleasure as the vibrator was turned on. My lower half hummed, pleasure rocketed through me. I had never used a vibrator before or any sex toy, and so the entire situation was new territory to me. But it was so much better than the sharp swat of the cane. It ended too soon. 

“Nothing comes before my Masters needs,” I said and there was a quick succession of three smacks to my inner right thigh. I bit down on my lower lip hard, a painful wail leaving my lips.

“My Master’s needs come before all else!” he said and smacked me again, this time on my other thigh.

“My Master’s needs come before all else!” I cried and I waited for the vibrator but it did not come.

“Repeat it again. Learn these rules, slave. You will be living your life by them.” 

“My Master’s needs come before all else,” I said again and though I knew it was right I was smacked on the ass with the cane.

“The first rule?”

“My sole purpose in life is to see to the needs of my Master!”

“Again!” He ordered with another swat.

“My sole purpose in life is to see to the needs of my Master!”

“And the next?”

“My Master’s needs come before all else,” I said and the vibrator came on. It felt so good in contrast to my stinging skin that my body began riding the vibrator in my pussy on instinct. It went on only a few seconds and I kept trying to grind against it. He ordered me to stop and I obeyed before I earned another punishment. 

“And the third?” he asked.

“I am… I am thankful for my Master… and…”

I cried out as I was smacked with the cane. 

“I can’t remember,” I nearly wept.

“I will obey…”

“I will obey…” I breathed out.

“without hesitation…” he waited for me to repeat it. “ and be thankful…” he waited again. “I am allowed to serve Him.”

He had me say it all together and he turned on the vibrators. I was once again bombarded with the conflicting sensations. I was vaguely aware of one of his hands stroking a particularly painful area of my thigh. The hand withdrew and I was given a few more blissful moments of pleasure before it was turned off. When he spoke again his voice came from the other side of the room, behind me.

“Repeat them all,” he ordered me. I said them all back, my voice quivering and shaking, but I did not make a mistake. The vibrator was put back on. It was left on a few moments and my hips grinded my pussy into it. I panted and moaned like a whore and I wondered briefly what I must look like to him, but I did not care. It felt too good. Again though, it was turned off too soon. Had it done been for the pain in my thighs and my bottom I would have orgasmed long before now.

“If you orgasm you will be punished severely,” he told me and I nodded.

“Yes Master,” I breathed out but I saw stars when he turned the vibrators back on. I yanked on the handcuffs holding my arms up over my head. My back arched, and I felt the most intense pleasure I had ever experienced before in my life. I had touched myself in the past and felt pleasure but it was nothing like this. I felt some sweat drip down my back despite the cold of the basement or cellar we were in.

“All rules I break shall be faced with discipline. There are no excuses. Every transgression is my own fault and no one else’s,” Brooks said. “Repeat.”

His voice was deep and quiet, threatening. I struggled to repeat it out and he had to correct me a few times. My brain was too muddled. I felt my wrists being dethatched from the ceiling, but the cuffs remained on my wrists. I was lowered to the ground and told to get into position five. I still remembered that one and got onto my hands and knees. His hand went to my hair and he pulled be across the room. It was not too rough, and he was clearly only doing it to lead me, as I was naked and blindfolded.

“Master, I’m thirsty,” I breathed out. I could take whatever punishment might be coming if I could simply get some water first. This whole thing was much more difficult, much more physically taxing than I have expected.

“You say you are thirsty, slave?” he asked me and I wondered when my punishment would come as I nodded. But I was so thirsty I didn’t care what happened as long as I got some cold water. 

“Yes Master,” I panted. The vibrator in my pussy was gone, as it was attached to the contraption I was put on but the one in my ass remained. I wiggled my ass slightly as I tried to get used to the feeling. I was doing this when I heard the sound of a faucet. It must have run down from the main house. I gasped when I was hit with the hard spray of cold water. It ended and I assumed he had dumped a bucket of water on me. The sudden cold was a shock to my system and I let out a breathy cry of surprise.

“Lap it off the floor,” he ordered. I hesitated. I did not know what the room looked like and I certainly did not want to be drinking water up off the floor. But before he could be displeased with me I lowered my face to the ground. I lapped up the water from the ground and after a few hesitant moments I began doing so in earnest. I was struck with how thirsty I was. My throat burned and I pressed my lips to the ground, sucking and slurping at the water. I was embarrassed when I heard Brook’s condescending, arrogant chuckle and felt him circling me.

“I do not even have to try to degrade you. You simply degrade yourself,” he mused but I couldn’t stop. I was so thirsty. “That’s a sign of a good slave. You filthy little slut. Look at you, lapping up water from the floor like a dog. You sweet little bitch.”

I felt the cane gently trail down my outer thighs. When all the water was gone I kept my face pressed against the cold floor. I pressed my ass up further into the air toward Brooks’ hoping he understand my meaning as an offering to him.

“You are nothing more than an object in which I can derive pleasure from,” he told me as his cane moved over my ass.

“Yes master,” I breathed. Now that my thirst was partially quenched I was suddenly very tired. “I am ready to accept your punishment Master, when you decide to give it to me.”

He chuckled again. I loved his laugh. It was so condescending and demeaning.

“Stand,” he said simply and I got to my feet. I nearly feel over. My knees gave out a moment and I felt myself falling toward the floor. Brooks steadied me with a firm grip and I felt comforted at the touch. I was dragged a few feet to my right and attached to the ceiling again. But this time my feet were still on the ground and I add to support myself. I could feel my arousal dripping down my legs from my orgasm and there was no sign of it letting up. I felt him come to stand in front of me and even as I tried to keep myself upright and ease the strain on my wrist by standing on my tip toes he towered over me.

“Some people say leather floggers are more painful,” he said and gently slid the blindfold off. My eyes fluttered open but he had already turned around. I was able to look around the room and I felt some fear root itself in my heart. It was bigger than the room we had been in when we first met and filled with more ominous looking items and furniture. There were cages, and wracks, and a steal bed frame with no mattress. I wandered if that was going to be my bed. “But I think the braided rope hurts more.”

He came back with a flogger in his left hand. I had little time to wonder what this new instrument would feel like for the moment he was in arms length he swung it at my breasts. I yelped in pain. I even preferred the cane to that. The ends of the braided rope caught my nipples and I bit down hard on my lip.

“I don’t like that,” I breathed out and he tilted his head.

“You aren’t supposed to like it,” he said simply. “It’s a punishment. The only person that should derive pleasure from it is me.”

He swung the flogger again and this time hit my belly. My body swung slightly from the ceiling as my feet struggled to reach the ground and I tried to squirm away from the flogger. The flogger came down on my ass, my thighs, my breasts and my pussy in a whirl wind. I cried out as I took my punishment. It was so much worse not know when it would end or how many he would decide to give me. When he had punished me that first night we met at the club it had only been five, but know how many were coming helped me focus and prepare mentally. This was torture. 

I began to cry.

It hurt so badly. I was cold, wet, confused, and overwhelmed. I tried to tell myself this was part of my training, it was part of BDSM but in my overwhelmed state I could not understand why Brooks was being so mean to me. I was hit a few more times before the flogging stopped. I sniffled, tears dripping down my nose. I looked down at the ground and saw Brooks’ feet come into view. My bare feet looked small next to his.

“I know you want me to wrap you in my arms and tell you everything will be OK,” he murmured to me. “But I will not. It is not the time for that. You must learn first. Once you have finished your training you will have my affection.”

I nodded.

“Yes master,” I whispered. A tear ran down my nose before dripping onto the concrete floor.

“You’ve been through a lot today,” he said and reached up and released me from the ceiling. He grabbed onto the chain connecting my handcuffs and led me into a corner with a cage. He unlocked the cage and opened the doors, motioning for me to go inside. I crawled in. It was tight, but there was a thin little dog bed on the ground that would give me some relief. He then unlocked one handcuff and laced it through the bars before placing it back on my wrist. He then shut the door and locked it.

“Sleep. I will return. You have done very well today, Katie,” he told me and walked from the room. It meant a lot to me that he used my name, and though he had said he would not show me affection, his voice was gentle and warm. 

“Good night, master,” I called but I was answered with the sound of a heavy door slamming shut. I lowered my head to the little dog bed and was immediately fast asleep. 

_

Xavier climbed the steps to the upper floor of his house and jumped directly into a cold shower. His impressive cocked ached and it did not take very much to work himself up to climax. All he had to do was picture sweet little Katie chained up in the cage. When she had started crying he had felt slightly guilty for pushing her so hard on their first day, but he only had a week with her in his home.

When he got out of the shoulder he put on a pair of boxers and went to his bed. Though Katie had said good night to him, it was only one in the afternoon. But for the next week he would be on an odd sleeping schedule. In an effort to keep Katie disoriented and confused he had to make some sacrifices. When he lay down for bed he set his alarm clock for four o’clock. Katie would be the one to suffer the most from this new schedule, as she would be going through the physical and emotional turmoil.

On Sunday, the day before she was going to return to work, he would be sure to give her the emotional care she needed. She would sleep in his bed, in his arms, and he would be sure to tell her how proud he was of her. She would be fine mentally to return to work. 

He found himself getting hard again as he ran the most recent session over and over again in his head. Her body was just the type he preferred. She was short and curvy. She was trim and fit, but he had something to grab onto. Her breasts were the perfect size for his hand, tipped with little pink nipples. Her eyes were big and blue, innocent and searching. He remembered making eye contact with her at the coffee shop and knowing he had to have her as his. It was the sweet, innocent look that was lacking in woman now-a-days. And the way she had looked down, blushed, and turned away when he stared at her. It gave him hope that she would be pliable, easily introduced into the life style. The fact that she agreed to it so easily has surprised him, but he had been pleased. 

He groaned and moved his hand back to his cock. He began to pump his hand up and down again. He remembered the way her body had arched when she orgasmed against the vibrator, how her body trembled every time he smacked her with his cane. She would be a perfect slave. He imagined her dressed in sexy lingerie for him, straddling his lap and stroking his hair, his face and chest.

“Good girl,” he breathed to himself and felt himself climax a second time. He rolled over and tried to find sleep. With this one he might break his own rule and make physical contact before the third day. He wouldn’t take her virginity. That would come at a later time. When he did that he did not want her a mess of nerves and emotions. He’d wait until after training for that. But he could not see a problem with instructing her on how to best suck his cock.

He groaned when he felt his cock stir a third time. He ignored it, as he did not think he could come again if he tried. Oh, when he woke up, she would definitely be sucking his cock.

_


	5. V

I woke up to the loud sound of a rattling cage. I jumped awake, slamming my body against the side of the metal and looked around. I was terribly disoriented for a few moments, but when I saw Brooks standing next to the cage with the flogger I calmed slightly. He had been dragging the handle of the flogger against the cage door. He stared down at my lazily, his eyes raking over my body. I looked over myself then, and was surprised to see only one bruise on my body. I had thought that I would have been covered in bruises, but instead there was only one long strip of purple skin where he had hit me too hard.

“Good morning,” I said and he humphed. He crouched down in front of me on the balls of his feet and reached into his pocket. He took out an old, faded, crumpled dollar bill and held it up in front of me.

“Tell me, slave, what is this worth?” he asked and I frowned. I licked my lips before I answered.

“A dollar?” I asked.

“And why is this piece of paper worth a dollar?” he asked me with a little tilt of his head. I wracked my brain.

“I don’t know, master,” I answered.

“Because you think it is. The only reason paper money has any value at all, is because a person gives it value. I want you to think of yourself as a dollar. You have no worth but that which I give you. Your entire goal, your reason for living, should be to give me reasons to find value in you. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master,” I answered. 

“Now show me you are a good girl, and repeat back to me my core commandments.”

I swallowed hard as I tried to remember them in order and word for word. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted him to know that I was working hard to remember everything he was teaching me. That I had worth. That I was good enough for him to spend his time on me. I took a breath and began.

“I… my sole purpose,” I looked at his face hoping he would give me some sort of clue as to if I was on the right track. He looked down at me with his dark eyes, but his eye brows rose slightly. I had no idea if this was because I was failing or remembering them correctly. I took one last shaky breath and pushed forward. My biggest fear was not the painful punishment I would receive however, but the disappointment I would receive if I failed him. “My sole purpose in life is to see to the needs of my Master.”

“Good girl,” Brooks cooed. I felt my chest swell with pride. “Next.”

“The needs of my Master come before all else,” I said and took in a deep breath. He tilted his heads to the side in thought. 

“My Master’s needs come before all else,” he said. “But I will accept that.” 

“Thank you Master,” I said and he nodded curtly.

“last?”

“I will obey without… hesitation and be thankful that I can serve my Master.” 

“I will obey without hesitation and be thankful that I am allowed to serve him. Do you understand the difference?”

I nodded. He stood and looked down at me a few moments, his dark eyes raking over my naked body. When I saw him reach for his belt my eyes widened slightly in excitement I looked up at him, catching his burning eyes with mine. He plucked at the buttons of his trousers and unzipped. I had not yet seen him even in a remote state of undress, and I hoped beyond hope he was going to do what I thought he was going to do. I was terrified of the notion though. I did not want him to be disappointed with my skills. I had given head only once before and though he said he enjoyed it at the time he used it against me when we broke up.

He reached into his pants and gripped his cock, removing it from his trousers. It was absolutely magnificent. Long, thick, and hard. I leaned closer to the cage, getting up on my news eagerly. It was not until he laughed his condescending laugh I loved so much, that I realized my lips were parted. I watched as his hand stroked his hard cock and pressed myself closer to the cage.

“Hungry slut are you?” he asked. He continued to simply stroke himself in front of the cage. “My god you look good like that. Bound and caged, I think when I have my friends over I will put you on display, just like this. Adrian would love to see you again. He called me this morning.”

I could feel my face grow pale but I dared not tell him I did not like that idea. He might become angry with me. Being on display was not something I had prohibited in the contract, and he spoke of it with such heat in his voice. I did not want him to think we were sexually incompatible. Already the thought of him being with another woman was too much for me to even think about.

“Do you like that idea, whore?” he asked me. I bit on my bottom lip hard and nodded. He gave me a sharp look and shook his head. “I have no need for a slave that lies to me.”

“I’m not lying!” I cried.

“Another lie,” he replied and I watched him slip himself back into his trousers. A large bulge remained underneath his the fabric as he rebuttoned and belted his pants.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do it if pleases you. That’s what I meant!” I cried out, trying to reach out for him through the bars but the chain I was connected to only let my wrists move so far.

“Of course you will do it. You will do it because I tell you to do it, but when I ask you a question you will answer it honestly. I thought we had already established that,” he tilted his head. “So tell me, slave, are you a liar or just stupid?”

His words stung and I felt my lower lip tremble. I could only look at him, my eyes watering slightly. He looked down at me.

“Would you like to try again?” he asked me and I nodded wordlessly. He struck the side of the cage with the butt of the flogger and I jumped at the jarring sound of shaking metal. 

“Yes please, Master,” I corrected myself.

“Would you like to be on display for my friends? Would you like to be chained up naked for them to look at, to leer at, to verbally degrade?”

“No I would not, Master,” I answered.

“You will learn to like it,” he answered coolly. “It brings me pleasure to know they want you, and I am the one that has you.”

“Yes, Master,” I said again.

“Why did you lie to me?” he asked me and I let out a little breath.

“I didn’t want you to break the contract,” I answered honestly, a blush on my cheeks. “I thought if you thought I didn’t want to do what you did you’d find someone else.”

“Those are the perks of being the master. I want you, Katie, and I can do whatever I want to you. It doesn’t matter if you want it or not. I have no need to find another girl.”

“Thank you Master,” I said. He nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little protein bar. He opened it and knelt down in front of me. He brought the bar to my lips and I bit into it. After I finished chewing and swallowed the first bite I thanked him. When I was finished he opened the cage and led me by the chain attached to my handcuff. He opened a door in the far corner and pushed me inside. At first I was terrified but when he flicked the light on I saw it was only a bathroom. He had a new toothbrush inside for me and some toothpaste, and he told me to wash myself with a rag, brush my teeth, and use the bathroom. He always left a mini bottle of water for me. He left me alone while I did this. As I brushed my teeth I could hear him moving around on the other side of the door and I was overcome with giddy anticipation and terrifying nervousness. I exited the bathroom and closed the door behind me. He was standing by a giant wooden X when I came outside and I bit down on my lip hard.

“Crawl to me slave,” he ordered and I fell to my hands and knees. I crawled toward him, stopping before him, keeping my head down. I could feel his gaze on me and I trembled in delicious excitement. I only wished I could feel him touching me, hugging me, kissing me, fucking me. I cursed myself for lying to him. I might have his gorgeous erection in my mouth at the moment if I hadn’t. “Stand.”

I got to my feet and he unchained the wrists. With a firm shove I was pushed against the giant X and he chained my wrists and ankles to the legs.

“This is a St. Andrew’s Cross,” he told me. I nodded.

“Yes, Master,” I said. He walked away and toward the wall of toys, looking it over. I could not see what he grabbed, and he put it on a little table with wheels. He wheeled it toward me, but left it out of view. My mouth turned dry when I saw him take out a blind fold. My breathing became hard as he tied it around my eyes.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered and I obeyed without question. The gag he placed into my mouth was like a little ring that kept my mouth open. My jaw began to ache almost immediately, but I did not make a noise. “I was planning on moving on in your training today, but I do not suffer liars, and you will be punished.”

I whimpered but nodded. I felt something cold press at my asshole before being pushed inside. His fingers traced the inside of my thighs before something pressed into my pussy. I felt my pussy already beginning to leak, but I knew more was to come. I heard what sounded like a stick thwacking through the air and my stomach tightened. Canes terrified me, and that was exactly what I thought he had in his hand. I had done as he told me the first night we were together and googled the pictures of what rattan canes could do to a person. The pain he could inflict on me with that was great. I kept trying to remind myself that I trusted him. He was not cruel. But still I felt my limbs tremble. 

I felt the vibrators he had put inside me go on and I gasped around my gag. He waited until my juices were running down my leg before laying the first smack to my legs. In contrast with the pleasure it sent bolts of pain running through my legs. He hit me again in quick succession and I cried out. The next smack landed on my outer thigh, then on the meat of my calves. I had no idea where the swat was going to land next, and the shock of it added to the pain. He paused a few moments and despite the burning of my skin and the pain I felt an orgasm rip through me. I moaned as I felt myself begin to build up again toward an orgasm.

“What are my commandments, slave?” he asked. 

“My sole purpose in life is to see to the needs of my Master,” I said and then paused to moan. “My Master’s needs come before all else.” I paused again, another moan coming from my lips. “I will obey without hesitation and be thankful that I am allowed to serve him.”

I was proud I had said them right and in the correct order. I moaned when the vibrator was taking from my pussy, missing the vibrations. But when I felt two of my Master’s fingers slip inside of me my pleasure seemed to increase tenfold. I moaned around the gag until he removed it and tossed it on the table. 

“Do you like that?” he asked and I nodded. “Answer me!”

“I love it master,” I moaned and he chuckled. His fingers pumped inside of me, his thumb messaged my clit. “Oh, god, thank you, master.” 

“Open your eyes,” he told me. My eyes opened immediately and I looked up at his smug, arrogant face. He eyed my heaving breasts before looking back up into my flushed face. 

“You’re a good little whore,” he breathed and my pussy clenched around his fingers. “You’re my little whore though, aren’t you?”

“Yes, master,” I panted. I was his. I’d be his forever if he let me. “Yes.”

“So eager to please,” he said softly. “Too bad you are a little liar.”

“No,” I breathed out.

“Such a sweet, tight little cunt,” he murmured his lips close to mine. “Fuck my fingers, whore.”

I did my best, grinding my soaking pussy into his fingers. 

“You should see yourself,” he told me. “I don’t think ‘whore’ is even adequate in describing you. What a dirty little cunt you are.”

His words were vulgar, degrading and humiliating, but they only spurred me on. My pussy clenched around his fingers and I did what I could to grind my hips against him from my position on the cross. I came again, soaking his hand with my arousal. When I came down from the high I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a nice long nap. My Master wiped his hand off with a rag and rubbed the inside of my leg before unchaining me.

“Follow me and keep your eyes on my feet,” he ordered and I nodded. When we got to the base of the stairs I was overcome with excitement. We were going upstairs. I was going to see where he lived, where he really lived. I tried to keep from smiling as we climbed the steps. I was that much closer to being his real slave, that much closer to being held in his powerful arms. I gazed at his back as we climbed the steps, my chest bubbling up with affection for him. I wanted to reach out to touch him, but I knew that he would not like that. I had to earn that privilege. He opened the basement door and pushed me into the main house.

“You have earned the first item of clothing,” he told me and I hid my smile by looking toward the floor.

“Thank you, Master,” I said softly. He brought me into a living room just to the right of the basement and so I was not able to get a good look at the house. I always had to keep my head down as he had ordered. I would not give him reason to withhold the clothing I had earned. He retrieved a black, lace camisole section of a lingerie set and brought it to me.

“You get the panties last,” he informed me. “Though I would rather you be bear to me the entire time, training is not about sex.”

I nodded and he helped me into the camisole. The clips that would attach to the stockings hung down to my thighs. I blushed when he touched my waist and gently spun me around to look at me. His hands were warm and firm on my body and I leaned in to his touch. 

“This is the part of the training,” he began, whispering into my ear, pulling me to him so my back was pressed against his chest, “that is the real test. This is the part where most slaves try to get out of their contracts.”

“I won’t try to get out,” I vowed and he chuckled in my ear, laying a large hand on my now black lace clad stomach.

“This isn’t just about sex anymore. You’ll be my slave now in the true sense of the word. No sexual fetish. Real base servitude. Are you ready for that?”

I nodded and turned in his arms, looking up at him.

“I want to serve you,” I told him and his lips twisted into a cold smile. His hand touched my cheek and I leaned into it, turning my face to kiss his palm.

“We shall see,” he smiled. “I’ll show you to the kitchen.” 

_


	6. VI

Brooks gave me a tour of his home, going over what my duties were going to be while I was with him at his home. The home itself was magnificent and surprisingly small. I knew how much money he had, and while the home was larger and grander than anything I would ever be able to own it was not the home of a billionaire. And Xavier Brooks was never known to be a modest man. He drove expensive cars, wore Armani and Gucci suits that cost more than my own car, and was seen eating at only the most expensive and elite restaurants. So I found it odd he would own such a modest, by comparison, home. Of course, he did own more than one, which might have played a role in it.

Despite telling me he would be bringing me to the kitchen he first brought me to the room on the front right of the house and walked me through the front three rooms, the middle three rooms, and then the last three rooms. He told me as we passed the staircase that I would have to earn the privilege of going upstairs, and until I did so, I would be sleeping in my dog cage in the basement. I did not like that idea, but I accepted it with a little nod and a mumbled ‘yes, master.’

The rooms in the front of the house, from right to left, were the living room, sitting room, and a breakfast rooms, rooms that to me, looked very much the same. The middle tree rooms consisted of his study or office, which he did not open the door too or let me see, but instead gave me explicit instructions that I was not to go in there, a dining room, and a bathroom. The staircase was in the hall by the slightly smaller bathroom. The last row of rooms was the kitchen, a beautiful library, and another bathroom.

He ordered me to kneel when we arrived in the kitchen and I fell to my knees on front of him. He left the room for a moment and returned with another cane. I felt my thighs tremble but he only used it to position me into a new position. I was on my knees, sitting up straight, my hands resting on my thighs, and my breasts pointed outward.

“Position eight,” he told me.

“Yes Master,” I told him and he turned his back to me. He looked around the kitchen, a relatively large room with stainless steel appliances and dark granite counters.

“Do you cook slave?” he asked me and I nodded.

“Yes master.”

“Do you cook well?” he asked, his voice sharp and penetrating. I had always thought I was a good cook, but confronted with his confrontational tone and doubting black eyes I was not so sure.

“Yes, master,” I said weakly and his eyebrows rose. He leaned in toward my slightly, bending at the hips.

“Was that a question slave?”

“No master… I cook well. I bake better but I cook well,” I told him and he straightened.

“I did not ask if you could bake. I asked if you could cook,” he told me and I flinched. He had been so gentle in the living room after he had dressed me. I did not understand where this anger was coming from. I bit down on my tongue and did my best not to cry. He looked at me a few moments but his gaze did not soften. “Only answer the question I ask you until I tell you, you are allowed to speak freely. Understand slave?”

“Yes master,” I answered. He nodded.

“If you do not cook up to my standards you will learn to do so. I do not expect to be cooking my meals for myself or my slave. Preparing my meals is one of you most important tasks. I take my meals in my study most often, though until I trust you enough to enter my study you will bring them to me in the dining room. I will have the meal I want left for you on the kitchen counter when you arrive, and the time in which I expect it. Understand?”

I frowned a moment, a question lingering on my lips, but I was afraid of his clipped tone, and I did not want to upset him.

“Yes, master,” I told him. He stared at me hotly, but it was anger I saw, not arousal.

“Is lying an impossible habit for you to break? If it is, then I will release you from your contract and you can go home now.”

“No!” I cried and lurched forward, grabbing onto his pants. “Please don’t. I’ll tell the truth now.”

“How many lies is that now, slave?” he asked me.

“I… I don’t know, master,” I said.

“So many you can’t keep track,” he mused. “I think –” 

He broke off when his phone began to ring in his pocket and he answered it. He gently kicked my grip of his pants off and I went back into my position.

“I am training… right now? I suppose, she needs a lesson in honesty.”

I felt my stomach drop into my toes and I bit down on my tongue again, both to stop my fear and lessen my shame.

“Come to the door. I will let you in.”

I felt my body begin to tremble and when Brooks turned to look at me his gaze was cold and amused at the same time. My lower lip trembled and my eyes filled with water, but I was proud that they did not fall. He walked toward me and gently placed four fingers under my chin and rested his thumb on my lips.

“Remember what was in the contract?” he asked me gently. I nodded. “Then do not fret.”

I nodded again.

“Thank you master,” I said quietly, thankful that he had reminded me. He ran his thumb over my lips for a few moments before there was knock on the door. He released my chin and walked away, leaving me in the kitchen. I knew better than to move, and held the position he had put me in. He heard voices, but I did not recognize the voice immediately. I heard two sets of footsteps on the hard wood floor and my stomach tightened. In the position I was in my bare pussy was easily visible and though I knew Brooks would not let him touch me, I knew he would have no problem letting him look at me. 

I saw Brooks enter the kitchen first, followed by the familiar, lazily smug face of Adrian Renwick. He was in a pair of khaki pants and a light blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. He whistled as he saw me, a predatory grin on his lips. He circled me and then crouched down in front of me, balancing on the balls of his feet.

“A lesson in honesty?” he asked and reached up to touch my chin. “It’s always the quiet ones that –”

“Do not touch her,” Brooks said crisply and I was thankful. Adrian bristled and stood.

“It was hardly sexual,” he answered. “Look at her mouth. Made for sucking cock, but also made for kissing. Have you kissed her yet Xavier?”

“She has not earned a kiss,” he replied. I could feel my body trembling and my forehead was perspiring but not because the position was a hard one to hold. It was the way Adrian was looking at me.

“How will she be punished?”

I watched Brooks hold up the cane. Adrian smiled.

“Where?”

“The living room,” Brooks replied and he said something to Adrian in a hushed voice. I did not catch it but I swallowed hard. “Crawl, slave.”

I followed them on my hands and knees through the hallway to the front of the house. My face burned with embarrassment and my knees began to ache. I glanced up at my master’s back for strength, reminding myself how much I wanted to please him, how powerful and masculine he was. I felt my pussy get wet as I crawled. I wanted to serve him completely, and while I did not like it that his friend was here and able to see me naked from the waist down, I was still aroused. When I got into the living room I was glad to be on a carpeted floor. I remained on my hands in knees, in position five, but looked up to see what my master and Adrian were doing. Brooks kicked a leather ottoman out from the chair to the center of the room and Adrian took a seat on the chair. 

“Give me a side view,” Adrian said. “I like watching them scream.”

My pussy clenched and Brook moved the ottoman with his foot again. He looked back at me, his face stony and cool. I reminded myself that he would not let Adrian touch me and waited.

“Lay across,” he told me and I crawled to obey. I moved to lie over the ottoman and waited. “Master Adrian is my neighbor, slave, so he will be here often. Does that make you happy?” my master asked. I hesitated and over at Adrian. He was leaned back in the leather chair, his ankle resting across his knee, looking down his nose at me, a little smirk on his face. I looked away and then down at the ground. It would be rude to tell Brooks I was not happy his friend would be over, not only rude to Brooks, but Adrian himself, who was seated only seven feet to my right. I did not think it was a fair question to ask. Both were intimidating men, dominant men I wanted to please, but Brooks had demanded honesty. Was honesty more important than manners? And if Brooks was going to have him come over anyway then why not be polite? I bit my lower lip hard and jumped slightly when I felt the cane rest gently on my back.

“This slave could not tell the truth if she tried. She is incapable of it,” he said and I was immediately insulted.

“That’s not true,” I snapped and immediately regretted it. I felt probably the hardest smack of the cane I had experienced to date on my bottom and I cried out.

“She’s disrespectful too,” Brooks said and I heard wrath in his voice. “Slave, are you glad Master Adrian will be here often? I will have an answer.”

“No,” I said, trying to block out the pain on my bottom.

“That’s rude,” Adrian said but I could hear amusement in his voice. “Your slave doesn’t like me, Xavier.”

“I don’t even like you, Adrian,” Brooks replied and Adrian laughed. I swallowed hard, screwing my eyes shut, trying to block out the pain. Brooks lowered the cane down on my bottom again hard and I yelped. I waited for him to tell me how many I would be receiving and he hit me again. I cried out, my voice catching in my throat.

“That is magnificent,” I heard Adrian breath. I glanced over to see him running his finger tips over his lips as he watched, his eyes slightly hooded. We made eye contact for just a moment before I looked away to the floor. I was hit again, and then again, and again. Two of the three landed on my upper thighs and the stinging was terrible. I tasted blood as I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

“Is this too much for you, slave?” he asked me and I shook my head. “I did not hear you.”

“No, master,” I answered, but I felt a tear drip down my nose.

“No?” he asked and smacked me a twice more, this time just above the bend in my knee. I cried out again, grabbing onto the carpet underneath my hands. My black, lacy breasts pressed down into the leather ottoman hard.

“Was that eight?” Adrian asked. I felt another smack on my bottom.

“Nine,” Brooks replied and Adrian laughed. I could see him from the corner of his eye, rubbing his hand over the bulge in his pants. “Not even wet anymore, when you were dripping like a common back alley slut when you bent over the ottoman. Not too much is it, slave?”

I shook my head a few seconds before I spoke, but I knew he could hear that I was crying. “No, master.”

I would take whatever he gave me. He paused a moment before I felt two more smacks to my thighs.

“Too much to take, slave?” he asked and I told him no again. Now he hit me only once before asking me if it was too much. It was not until we made it to seventeen, and Adrian made a little comment about it being a record that I cried out for Brooks to stop, begging him to stop the punishment, that I was sorry. 

“Is it too much to take, slave?” he asked me and I nodded.

“Yes!” I wept. “Yes!”

I lowered down, sliding off the ottoman, and laid on the carpet, curled up into a type of ball. I flinched when I felt a hand on me, but I realized it was only Brooks, gently stroking my sweaty hair.

“Had you told me it was too much to take when I first asked you, it would have ended at six,” he told me. “Do you see why honesty is important?”

My eyes fluttered opened and I looked up at him. Tears blurred my vision but I finally understood what the purpose of this was, why he made it so painful. I slowly nodded. He continued to stroke my hair gently and I closed my eyes.

“You have no power, Katie, and so your well being, your health, physical and emotional, and mental, is my responsibility. If I ask you if something hurts too much, if something displeases you, you have to tell me the truth. How can I take care of you if I don’t know what you need?”

“You can’t,” I said softly.

“That’s right. And if you are worried I will look for another girl because I am displeased with you remember it is I that sought you out. You did not come to me. I wanted you first, remember?”

“Only because I didn’t think you’d ever look twice at me,” I told him. He smiled gently and touched my cheek. 

“Will you be honest with me in all things now, Katie? No matter what I ask you, no matter who is in the room to hear, no matter what, you will be honest with me?”

“Yes, Master,” I told him.

“Good girl,” he told me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Can I go to sleep, Master?” I whispered.

“If you say “May I” instead,” he answered and I fixed my wording.

“Alright Adrian, go home,” Brooks said and Adrian stood.

“I am impressed with her pain threshold,” Adrian said and I opened my eyes again. He was standing in front of me, but his smile was no longer the lazy arrogant smile of a dangerous predator, but a soft, comforting one.

“Good night, Catherine,” he said and left the house. I felt Brooks pick me up in his arms, but instead of being carried downstairs I felt myself going upstairs. I laid my head against his chest, breathing in his chest, feeling safe in his arms.

“Is this your room?” I asked him as he put me down on a soft bed.

“No,” he answered simply and I nodded. He left me alone for a few moments, and were I not in so much pain I might have fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. Instead I tried to sit up, taking the glass of water and little pill he handed me.

“What is it?” I asked before putting it into my mouth.

“The last lesson was in honesty. Consider this a lesson in trust. Just take it,” he told me and I nodded, slipping the little tablet into my mouth and swallowing it. “Now onto your stomach.”

I nodded and obeyed wordlessly. As I felt the soft salve being rubbing into my skin I began to feel the effects of the tablet he had given me.

“I generally have a rule against giving my slaves pain relief during trainings, but you took quite a bit tonight,” he told me as he messaged the back of my thighs and bottom. “This will help with the bruising and swelling. I do not like my slaves bruised and striped. Adrian quite likes it but not me. This was a very rare event. Discipline will not normally be so painful.”

“Thank you, Master,” I told him sleepily as he messaged the skin.

“You are a sweet girl. You’ll be the perfect slave,” he told me and I smiled.

“Thank you, Master…” I said again. The pin was fading and so it was easy for me to fall asleep.

“You’re welcome, slave. Good night,” he said and I felt his hands leave my body. Before I could even make a moan of protest, I had fallen asleep.


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With a real introduction to Dr. Bennet I will say I am working on a oneshot/little story about him meeting his wife. It is mentioned in this story later on, but I've had a few people request a Bennet back story.

I woke up to the feeling of gentle fingers stroking my hair. It felt nice and a soft little moan left my lips as I leaned into the soft caresses. My bottom and legs hurt, but I was cocooned in warm blankets, resting on soft sheets. The stroking of my hair felt wonderful, and I never wanted the feeling to end. I almost fell back to sleep but the fingers left my hair, and I felt knuckles brushing against my cheek gently. I heard a deep murmur as the fingers stroked my cheek, and slowly I opened my eyes.

“It’s time to wake up, slave,” Brooks told me when I opened my eyes to look up at him. “I already let you sleep too long, and there is a doctor here to examine you.” 

“A doctor?” I asked and tried to sit up. I grimaced as my raw bottom brushed against the sheet.

“To make sure you are not mistreated,” he told me. “A few years ago a slave came in to the club with her new master; an infected wound on her back from a particularly bad beating. When it was brought to Adrian’s attention that she was being refused medical care he made it mandatory that doctors examine slaves frequently during training, and then at decided increments throughout the year.”

“I don’t really like Adrian,” I told him, shifting slightly on the bed.

“Adrian is my best friend,” he answered and stood. I lowered my head and bit my lower lip. “He’s a caring Master, if slightly more sadistic than I am.”

“I don’t like how he looks at me,” I mumbled, glancing up at him.

“Have we swung in the other direction? Are you incapable of holding your tongue now?” he asked me and I felt my skin flush bright red.

“I’m sorry.”

“Get up, the doctor is waiting,” he said curtly. I got out of bed and followed him down the hall. Every step I took sent a stinging up the back of my legs and I was thankful he did not make me crawl. I was terrified of being seen naked in front of this doctor I did not know, and I wanted to ask Brooks if he was in the lifestyle or not. It would make me feel slightly better if he thought the way we did. Then I would only have to be embarrassed because he was looking at me naked, not because of my sexual preferences. The moment I got to the bottom of the stairs and saw him sitting in the living room I had my answer.

He was dressed in a suit, and had the air of a dominant. His gaze was not licentious, and he had a very professional demeanor as I walked into the room, naked from the waist down. I liked him better than any of the others I had met already, but I knew that Brooks did not want to hear that. He might want me to be honest but Adrian was his friend longer than I was his slave, and whether I liked it or not Adrian was going to be part of my life if I wanted to stay with Brooks.

“Katie, this is Doctor Bennet. When you see him as his patient that is how you will refer to him. When you see him at Euphoria he is Master Samuel. Understand?” Brooks asked me.

“Yes Master,” I said. Doctor Bennet smiled at me and motioned for me to come closer.

“Please sit, Katie,” Doctor Bennet said his voice soft and gentle. I obeyed and glanced back at Brooks. “Xavier, if you could step outside.”

Brooks nodded and moved to leave the room. I felt a little panic rush through me and I shook my head, but Doctor Bennet spoke before I was able to voice my protest.

“I am not here as a master but a doctor, so please, do not be anxious. I need to ask you some personal questions. You might be hesitant to reply honestly if he is in the room with us. I assure you, I will be nothing but professional. I myself am in a monogamous relationship,” he said and it put me in ease. I heard the door shut behind me and Doctor Bennet opened his little black bag and looked inside. He had a thoughtful expression on his face and he waited a moment before asking me the first questions, as if he wanted to make sure they were worded right. 

“Do you feel that Mister Brooks is taking your needs into consideration?” he asked.

“Oh, definitely,” I answered and he nodded. 

“Have you been punished?”

“Yes, a few times,” I said and licked my lips.

“When he punished you, did you feel he was in control of himself?”

“What do you mean?” I asked and I watched him twirl his wedding rings with his fingers.

“When a Master punishes his slave he cannot do so in anger. It leaves the door open for injury. When he hits you, were you ever in fear that you were going to be injured or that he was unable to stop?”

“No,” I answered and he nodded again.

“Mister Brooks tells me that you have some bruising now?”

I nodded.

“May I?” he asked and I stood on shaky legs. I turned, revealing my bare skin. I jumped when I felt a feather light touch on my upper thigh, just under my right butt cheek. 

“Only a few bruises,” he told me. “This one is by far the worst, but nothing compared to others I have seen. Turn back around and sit. Do you have any other areas where he has struck you?”

“No, sir,” I answered and he nodded again.

“He’s feeding you, making sure you have food and water?” he asked and I nodded again.

“I haven’t eaten today but he’s given me food,” I volunteered.

“Has he been obeying the terms you set in the contract?” he asked and I nodded again. His voice was so soft that it lulled me into a sense of security, but I could see the potential in him to be domineering. He held himself with an air of confidence that Brooks and Adrian both possessed. He obviously had an inflated sense of self, as friendly as he seemed, and I wondered how much that had to do with him being a doctor, and his natural inclination toward domination. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a card. He looked it over a moment before extending his hand to me. I took it and looked it over. 

“That is my card. Call me if you need to, and if you feel the need to speak to a fellow slave you can speak to my wife. It is always good for new comers to have someone to speak to who knows what you are going through,” he told me and then added, “Xavier asked me to extend the offer to you.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I smiled and he nodded.

“Who is your doctor now, Katie?” he asked me.

“Dr. Clancy. She’s on –” 

“I know Dr. Clancy,” he said curtly and I had my first real look at Master Samuel. “I’d like you to consider switching to my practice. It is easier when you go in with bruises such as this. Explaining how certain things happen and so on. Just consider it. I’ll also give you a discounted fee because of my relationship with your Master.”

“That would be very helpful,” I said, remembering all the bills I had to pay. He nodded and pulled a stethoscope from his bag. He came toward me, placing on his calming, friendly smile.

“Just like a regular check up now,” he told me. I felt his hand on my shoulder and the stethoscope was pressed to my back. “Two deep breaths.”

He moved the stethoscope to my chest and told me to do the same.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked when he placed the stethoscope back into the back.

“Yes, a lot, but I keep making mistakes,” I told him. He smiled as he came back toward me, pressing his fingers to my neck, checking for any swollen glands. He smelled like fresh soap.

“It is to be expected. Don’t worry, doms like breaking in new slaves, and Xavier is quite pleased with you.”

“He was angry last night,” I told him.

“Yes, he told me. Lean back on the ottoman. But you need to understand not being honest with a dominant could result in some serious physical and emotional damage,” he told me and pressed his fingers into my belly. “Sit back up.”

“I guess I don’t understand the difference between honesty and being disrespectful,” I told him, waiting anxiously for his answer. He smoothed out his tie, looking down at it for an instant. 

“I would advise you to speak to Xavier about it, but my general rule is whenever a question is asked you answer it with the truth. No matter what. There are absolutely no exceptions. There is no room for games in this type of lifestyle. He isn’t looking to trick you into punishments. He owns you, if he wants to whip you or cane you or spank you he can. He needs no excuses. If no question is asked then only speak when you are uneasy about something or afraid.”

“So if I did not like one of his friends, I shouldn’t volunteer that information?” I asked.

“No, probably not,” he smiled. I nodded and looked down. “Unless of course this friend makes any sort of unwanted sexual advancement, then you must inform your master immediately. Even if it is wanted. You are Xavier’s property and if he hasn’t given him permission to touch you his rights are being violated. And remember, Katie, you can always tell him you want to talk. If you have questions now is the time to ask them, during training. He wants you to succeed, we all do.”

“I’ll do that,” I said. He pulled out a prescription pad and scribbled something.

“I’m writing you your own prescription for vicodin. Xavier will have it and give it to you as he sees fit. Sometimes he will wish to leave you in pain as a punishment.”

“Thank you,” I said and watched him put the prescription on the side table.

“Is there anything else you would like to speak to me about? Any concerns or questions?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied. Doctor Bennet nodded and closed his bag. “Go and tell Xavier he can come back in.”

I nodded and ran into the hall to get Brooks. He was not in the hall when I arrived and I realized with a sinking feeling that he had gone into his stomach. Yesterday when he told me I was not allowed to go into his study he had followed that up with whether or not I understood. I had told him I did, but I had questions lingering on my tongue. If only I had my lesson previous to that, I would know what to do next. I didn’t know if knocking was allowed. I chewed on my bottom lip hard and wrung my fingers together. I should have asked him if I was allowed to knock.

I ended up turning and going back into the living room. Doctor Bennet looked up expectantly and his eyebrows rose when he saw that I was not with Brooks.

“He’s in his study,” I told him and he nodded.

“He refused to come speak to me?”

“No I… he told me I couldn’t go in there,” I answered.

“He forbid you from knocking?”

“Well no… I was going to ask if I could last night but… I got scared,” I said with a blush.

“Go knock on the door,” Doctor Bennet said and crossed his legs, leaning back. I nodded and went to the study with a pounding heart. I was sure my lip would be swollen when I finished chewing on it, and I knocked faintly. I knocked so softly I do not think he even heard it, because I knocked again more firmly this time. There was a moment of hesitation and then the door opened. Brooks looked down at me, but he did not appear angry and I let out a deep breath.

“Have you finished?”

“Yes Master,” I answered. He moved passed me, shutting the door behind him so I could not see inside. I followed him back into the living.

“The bruises look fine, but I wrote her a scrip for vicodin for the future. I think that will be strong enough for her,” Doctor Bennet told Brooks. “I’ll tell Adrian everything is in fine order.”

“He knows it is. He was here last night,” Brooks said and Doctor Bennet smiled, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

“Ah,” he looked at me. “Is that the friend that you don’t like?”

I blushed deeply as Brooks turned to look at me.

“I am not surprised,” Bennet added. “I don’t know many people that do.” 

“Do not encourage her,” Brooks replied blandly. “Are you finished?”

“Yes I am done,” he said and stood. He was shorter than Brooks was, but still very tall. He shook hands with Brooks and then extended his hand to me. I glanced at Brooks, unsure if I was allowed to shake hands with a master, I was not supposed to be their equal, but he gave me a short nod and I took his hand.

“Remember, use that number whenever you need it,” he told me and I nodded.

“I hope I can meet your wife soon,” I told him and he smiled.

“Of course,” he told me and looked to Brooks. “Not this weekend but next perhaps? Will you be by the club once she’s finished?”

“Next Friday we’ll be going to the club again,” Brooks informed him and I felt butterflies quiver in my stomach. I lowered my head as Brooks and Doctor Bennet went to the front door, but followed them wordlessly. Bennet gave me one last warm smile and left the house. Just as the door closed shut I saw him head toward a beautiful jaguar sitting in the driveway.

“Any questions before we begin again?” Brooks asked. I bit my lip and thought hard, chewing on the soft flesh. His eyes went to my lips to watch but he waited patiently for me to think.

“Am I allowed to knock on your study door?” I asked and he nodded slowly, not giving my question a verbal answer. “Will I have access to recipes for the meals you want me to cook?”

“I will not set you up to fail. You’ll have access to a computer and recipe books,” he told me.

“I think that’s it for now,” I said and he began to nod and speak, but paused when he saw my mouth open and I gave a little intake of breath.

“Yes?”

“Um… It’s just curiosity really…”

“If you have a question ask it,” he told me. 

“When are we going to have sex?” I asked him and he smiled slightly giving me a little chuckle.

“Anxious?” he asked.

“Maybe a little,” I blushed and he held up a finger at me.

“No lies,” he scolded me and I blushed but could not help but smile.

“A lot…” I said. He smiled and stepped toward me, hooking a finger under my chin. He made me look up at him and I stared into his eyes, my smile fading only slightly. He was so painfully handsome I had trouble thinking when I looked up at him. He lowered his head, his lips hovering just over mine and I parted my lips, letting out a tiny little breath of hope.

“You need to eat,” he finally said and pulled back. “And drink water. Last night was not an adequate amount of water intake.”

I stifled my disappointment and nodded. I followed him into the kitchen and he leaned against the counter, looking me over lazily. Despite everything we had done I felt myself grow embarrassed and held my hands between the juncture of my legs with a little blush. I immediately moved my hands away when I saw his anger and he pointed a finger at me, his elbow bent.

“Never hide yourself from me. You are mine to do with as I please, and look upon as I please. Understand?”

I nodded.

“Yes Master.”

He walked toward me and wrapped an arm around me, but not for a hug. His fingers trailed over my bottom and then slipped between my legs.

“I’m going to destroy that cunt when the time comes,” he told me, his voice hot and hoarse in my ear. I shivered as his fingers played with me and bit my lip. “Make me a sandwich, and then make one for yourself. Put them on the dining room table and then come for me in my study.”

I nodded and his fingers withdrew. He brought them up and wiped them across my cheek, leaving some of my juices glistening there. He walked from the room and I looked around the kitchen. I had always prided myself on my sandwiches, as easy as they were to make, and I took out some bread. I had no idea what he wanted, what he liked, but I managed to deduce he did not like mayo, since there was none in the fridge, and used mustard instead. Once I had finished I made my own, using ham instead of turkey. Hopefully he would simply take whichever one he preferred and be pleased with me. I laughed to myself as I made it.

“Make me a sandwich,” I whispered with a smile. “Caveman.”

I hurried into the dining room and placed it on the table like he told me and then went to his study. I knocked softly, but loud enough for him to hear me and waited. He opened the door and moved passed me without a word, heading for the dining room. I waiting anxiously as he examined the sandwiches, nodding his head.

“Which is yours?” he asked. I hesitated only a second.

“Whichever one you don’t want,” I said, thinking this would please him. I was disappointed when his mouth pressed into a straight line.

“Whichever I decide to give you,” he said. “Though your answer was adequate. Sit at my feet.”

I obeyed, settling down on my knees as he took his seat.

“This is how we will take our meals. I’ll eat dinner and then retire to my study. After you finish cleaning up after dinner you will have your own meal and then begin whatever tasks I have given you for that night. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” I told him with a little nod.

“Good, but for now I want you to sit up here at the table so we can speak. Sit here,” he motioned to a chair and I got up. He pushed a sand which toward me and then raised his eyebrows.

“Ah, yes, well I suppose this was my fault for not telling you what I wanted. Go and bring me a glass of milk, and a large glass of water for yourself,” he said and I realized I brought nothing to drink to the table. I blushed and nodded. When I returned I put the glasses on the table and waited anxiously. Brooks had already begun eating his own sand which and he appeared to be enjoying it, though gave me no sign or words that he was pleased.

“Adrian is someone I have been friends with for many years. We have many common interests and likes. If you and I are going to continue than you will need to be accepting of that. Are you?”

“Yes master,” I told him, my face red in embarrassment. 

“He will not touch you and I will never share you. Does that ease your nerves some?”

“Yes, thank you, Master,” I told him and he nodded, taking a bite of the sandwich.

“I will tell you, and though I think it will put you at ease now it will most likely cause tension in our relationship down the line, I am a very possessive man. If you fear Adrian because he appears licentious, which he is, then know that under no circumstances would I ever let another man have what is mine. Your life, your focus, your goals, are all about me now, no one else, and as long as you think of your role as my slave in those terms, than have no fear that your needs will ever go unmet. Alright?”

“Yes, Master, thank you,” I told him and tried to smile at him, but I was a little overwhelmed by the little speech. He motioned to my sand which and ordered that I eat. I did so and there was silence for a few moments. I was suddenly overcome by how thirsty I was, and I gulped own the water. He told me to get myself another glass and I obeyed in a hurry, thankful I was allowed more than one glass. When I returned Brooks was finished eating and leaned back in his chair, a leg crossed, watching me thoughtfully. I glanced up at him shyly, giggling like a little school girl when he gave me a little smile.

“I really like Doctor Bennet,” I told him and Brooks nodded.

“Samuel is a very good man,” he agreed. “One of the more lenient masters.”

“Is he from the club too then?” I asked, a little worried I shouldn’t be entering into conversation with him but Brooks seemed unfazed.

“Do you remember anything from your time at the club, Katie?” he asked, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips. He was so painfully handsome I was once again struck with the unbelievable knowledge that I was sitting across from him nearly naked. How a man like him could want someone like me I had no understanding.

“All I remember is you,” I said softly and though his smile stayed the same I thought I saw some affection soften his gaze.

“Both Samuel and Adrian were sitting with me when you were brought up. Samuel said something about thinking you were sweet and Adrian asked if they could watch when I deflowered you,” he told me and I blushed.

“Oh… I don’t remember that…” I told him but I believed it happened. In that moment I had been so wrapped up with discovering that it was Xavier Brooks that had called for me, that all else seemed unimportant.

“Finish the sandwich, Katie, and drink your water,” he replied and I nodded and obeyed. When I finished he ordered me to bring the plates back into the room and I did. When I returned Brooks was standing. He removed his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. It was only when he shifted slightly that I noticed the erect bulge in his pants.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had a proper slave,” he told me. “Doing whatever I order. And you are so eager to please me that you end up doing things to your own detriment. It is oddly touching.”

He reached out and patted my cheek before turning. I followed him into the living room and he sat down in his armchair, the one Adrian had sat in last night when he wanted to watch Brooks cane me.

“I have very high standards,” he told me and pointed to the floor by his feet. I fell to my knees immediately between his spread legs. When I saw him begin to unbuckle his belt my mouth went dry with excitement. “I doubt this will be very good, but I will teach you what I like.”

“Yes, Master,” I said and nodded. His eyes were hot as he gazed down at me. It sent goosebumps all over my skin and I was almost trembling. I was excited, but I wanted to please him and I was so nervous I would make a mistake. I had given my ex a blow job twice and he told me he enjoyed it, but when we broke up he used it to hurt me. Now, faced with a man I wanted to please before all else, who just told me he was expecting me to fail, I was terrified.

“You have a beautiful mouth,” he told me and freed himself from his pants. I licked my dry lips, hoping to wet them some before I started. “You little whore.”

He slapped me gently on the cheek, not to hurt, but to surprise me and it worked. I blinked rapidly for a moment, but he was gently rubbing the skin with the back of his knuckles moments later and any pain I might have felt faded. He looked me in the eye, his dark eyes hot and full of arousal as he pumped his erection in a strong hand.

“I want enthusiasm,” he told me and I nodded. “I want to be worshiped.”

I nodded again, slightly out of breath. I could feel myself wetting the inside of my thighs with my own arousal and I pressed my thighs together hard. He leaned back and let go of his cock. It stood up proudly and he looked down his nose at me as he waited.

“Begin.”


	8. VIII

looked up at him as I settled in between his legs. His eyes burned into mine, hot and dark, waiting arrogantly to see if I had what it took to pleasure him with my mouth. I was anxious to begin, but terrified, and I knew he could feel the way my hand shook as it gripped the base of his magnificent erection. I ran my hand over it once, feeling its hard heat underneath my trembling fingers. I did not want to prolong my hesitation, for I was sure he would grow angry with me if he thought I was delaying on purpose. Instead I licked my lips once more and then lowered my mouth to the head.

I licked the top hesitantly and glanced up at him. He gave no sign that he had felt anything, but I thought I saw his eyes narrow a very small fraction. I circled my tongue around the top of his cock, the salty taste of precum filling my mouth. I felt one of his hands thread itself through my hair and I looked up at him, hoping to find any sign in his face that he approved or not. His grip in my hair was gentle at first but it grew hard and almost painful. I let out a little breathy protest of pain but he did not lesson his grip.

“Your mouth should be on my cock,” he told me and brought my head back down with the grip he had on my hair. I opened my mouth and took his cock into my mouth, but where I would have stopped he continued pushing until his cock was pressing against the back of my throat. I gagged around his length and pulled back, but his strong hand stayed me. I waited until finally he released me. I gasped and wiped my mouth, wiping some spittle off of my lips.

“Don’t make a mess,” he scolded. “I hate seeing spit fly all about.”

“Sorry master,” I told him, and leaned toward his cock. This time I made sure to be as neat as I could be. His hand did not force me to take anymore into my mouth than I could take this time and it was easier. Instead he sat imperiously over me while I kneeled before him, doing my best to pleasure him. I licked the length of him but he did not moan, did not give me any sign I was pleasing him. I glanced up at him occasionally, but I could not keep eye contact with his hot gaze. He was too intimidating.

“No, slave, look at me while you suck my cock,” he told me as I tried to look away again. My eyes fluttered up to him and I stroked his cock in my hand, keeping my mouth from him for a moment. He took his cock from me, gave it one, two, three hard strokes and then gently, then with more force, began smacking it over my lips. “Keep your eyes on me.”

I obeyed and he rubbed the head of his cock over my lips, smearing precum and saliva over my lips. He sighed and grabbed the back of my head bringing it toward him so he could better rub his hot cock over my cheek. When he let me go he ordered my mouth open and my tongue out. I obeyed and he rubbed the tip of his penis over my tongue.

“You look so good like that,” he told me and stroked his cock, the head resting against my tongue. “This is all you’re good for. Filling your holes with my cock. Go on, suck whore.”

I took the tip in my mouth and sucked, flicking my tongue up against him. He leaned back again and watched me.

“No hands,” he ordered shortly when I went to grab him by the base. “Work for it.”

I tried to continue without my hands but it was an instinct for me. Each time I would bring my hand up they would be slapped away until I felt them grabbed firmly and placed on his thighs. His hands did not move and I looked at him anxiously. But he only held my hands in place as I continued to take him in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down and making sure to lick the sensitive skin as much as I could. I knew I was doing well, because his breathing was affected slightly, and he was grinding his teeth together, but he never lost control. He did not moan, or groan and not a hair was out of place. His tan skin was only the slightest bit flushed, but his hands on top of mine were steady and firm, so unlike mine, shaking and trembling, eager to move and help my aching jaw.

He was so big I had some difficulty, but it would be a lie to say I did not enjoy myself thoroughly. He had a wonderful cock, and while the past two blowjobs I had given my ex had left me disliking the practice as laborious and non-reciprocal, I enjoyed doing it for Brooks, my master. Doing it for him got my stomach in knots and my pussy wet. I could feel my arousal on my thighs as I sucked him into my mouth, shyly meeting his hot gaze. Even the way he looked at me made me feel mastered. His gaze was hot and demeaning. He looked at me like he owned me, like I was put on Earth to make sure his needs, sexual and otherwise, were met. It made my body ache with need and the desire to fulfill his expectations.

Never could I understand my desire to serve a man in any way he pleased. For a long time I had tried to fight it, find a normal boyfriend, but this was exactly where I wanted to be. I wish I could explain it but I can’t. I want to feel a strong man protecting and guiding me, and the feeling of being at one’s mercy so explicitly… I craved it. I needed it.

His cock fell from my lips as I sucked on the head and I lowered my head down to collect it. I nuzzled his clothed thigh as I did, hoping to show him some of the affection I held for him, and I wished that he had not been wearing his trousers. I would have kissed his thighs as well. I glanced back up at him, worried he would be angry that I was struggling to hold eye contact but I think he liked that even more. Every time I would glance away in embarrassment and look back his eyes would light up with triumph and desire. If someone had told me months before when Xavier Brooks first walked into my coffee shop that I would end up in his home giving him a blow job as his sex slave I would have laughed in their face. But here I was, and I was enjoying every moment of it.

“Good girl,” he breathed, his voice betraying more of what he was feeling than his face. Still, he hid it well. He was a master of more than just me. He was a master of himself, and I felt myself grow even more affection for him. “Go on, please your master. Make me cum.”

“Please,” I breathed out over his cock, running my tongue up its length.

“Please what, slave?” he asked me.

“Give me your cum, please,” I begged and he jerked slightly, one hand moving from my hand and going to the back of my head. I thought I had done something wrong and I was ready to beg for forgiveness when he stood, knocking me down. He brought me back up to my knees with a firm grip to the back of my hair and shoved his cock in my mouth. He remained standing and had two strong grips on my hair. It hurt, and his hips thrust into my mouth like it was my pussy, but I did not mind.

“I’ll give you my cum, slave,” he panted. “Take it all, slave. Take my cock in your throat.”

I felt the head pressing to the back of my throat and I gagged, but he did not relent. After a moment he would pull his dick out and I would gasp for breath. Then a moment later he would be pulling me back and it would repeat itself. I was breathless and panting when he pulled back for good, pumping his hand frantically over the hard flesh.

“Mouth open, eyes closed,” he told me. “Tongue out.”

I immediately obeyed, and my eyes shut just in time to feel the hot glob of cum land on my right eyelid. Another hot stream landed on my nose and lips, and then another in my mouth. He spilled an impressive amount onto my face and I found myself enjoying the hot, gooey feel of it. I had only ever swallowed it before, and I was not opposed to it like some were, but I liked this. I waited, my eyes still shut, for him to give me an order. When none came I kept very still, my mouth still open. I heard him sigh and then the sound of a belt buckling. Still I waited, so still I began shaking as my muscles yearned for release.

“Such a good little slut,” he said and I felt his fingers on my eyelid, gently wiping the cum away. Slowly he trailed it down my cheek, collecting more as he went, and then flicked it into my mouth. He kept doing this until my mouth was filled with the cum he had spilled on the rest of my face. I remained still, making no attempt to swallow until he ordered it of me. He seemed very pleased with me for doing so, because he stroked my cheek gently.

“Are you going to thank me for my cum, slave?”

“Thank you master,” I said, though it was difficult because I still tried to keep his cum on my tongue.

“Swallow it,” he ordered and I did. I opened my eyes slowly, afraid that some cum would drip in, but luckily Brook’s had wiped it relatively clean. “Position six.”

His voice brokered no room for argument and so I moved immediately. I had been carefully playing the positions over and over again in my head since the first time we had met in the club and so I remembered it fairly well. I got to my feet and bent forward, grabbing onto my ankles.

“Are you in pain?” he asked me, his hand trailing over a striped bruise on my thigh.

“No, Master,” I told him and it was the truth. I was feeling too much right now to be feeling pain. He did not ask me if I was lying this time, and I think it was because he was hoping I had learned my lesson for being dishonest. And if I had not, then I would be paying the price anyway.

“What are my commandments?” he asked me, his voice cool.

“My sole purpose in life is to see the needs of my Master. My Master’s needs come before else,” I said and then my breath hitched in my throat. I always forgot this one. Immediately my mouth went dry and the word around me began to spin. I could not be hit again, not after last night, and worst of all this would disappoint Brooks. What good was a slave that could not remember three simply sentences, and three simple sentences that were so important to him at that.

I yelped when I felt a slap on my ass but I was not sure what it was. If I were to guess I would say it was a belt, but it is impossible to say with any certainty. It did not hurt as badly as the cane had, and whether that was because he was being more gentle or it simply wasn’t as painful I couldn’t tell, nor did I particularly care.

“I do not wait for whores,” he said and I felt a slight sting in my chest. He was able to make his voice sound so angry at times, so disinterested and it hurt. Each day, each hour, each minute, each second that passed I was feeling more attached to him. I began to feel a part of him and I wanted his affection. It seemed to me that I was just another slave at the moment. They come and they go. It would have been nice to think he was beginning to feel something for me as well.

“I will obey without hesitation and be thankful that I am allowed to serve him,” I said and held my breath. It sounded right… I thought it was right…

“Are you positive, slave?” he asked me and I swallowed hard. “Are you telling me that you have learned the three commandments and that none of those three were guesses?”

I thought a moment. It seemed right… I thought it was right… but that wasn’t what he asked. He asked if I knew it for a certainty and the truth was I did not really know. That last one had been a complete guess based on what I could pull from the back of my mind. If I got it right it was subconscious and riddled with luck.

“I guessed at the last one, Master,” I told him and waited to be struck.

“You guessed?” his voice was hard and accusing.

“Yes Master,” I answered again. Still there was so sting of the whip.

“Position One,” he said and I stood, spreading my feet slightly and pressing my fists together behind my back, making sure my breasts were out. He nodded and looked over me, his face once again void of emotion. It was like he was able to put on a mask and hide everything he was feeling from me. I was almost positive that he could read me like an open book.

“It was correct,” he told me, stepping close and lowered his face toward mine. I could smell his breath, minty, his skin, the rich smell of expensive aftershave. “All three you got perfectly correct. Though I am disappointed you had to resort to guessing.”

I felt my lower lip trembled as he spoke of his disappointment. His dark eyes lowered slightly, gazing at my trembling lower lip. He looked back up into my eyes and stared at me for one more moment before leaning in. The kiss was soft and chaste and it was over before I had even realized it had begun. My eyes fluttered on instinct and they stayed closed even after he pulled away. I felt like I was floating, like I was so light and happy that I could simply float away into oblivion.

“That was for your honesty,” he told me and I nodded, my eyes finally opening again.

“Thank you,” I whispered. For a small moment I thought he was going to kiss me again. He looked back at my lips and his face turned toward me slightly, but he pulled back, his mask placed back on his face securely.

“It is noon on Monday,” he told me. “You said for training you needed to call someone every other day at noon?”

“Yes, Master, my sister, so she knows I am OK,” I told him. He checked his watch and reached into his pocket.

“You have no siblings,” he told me and I thought I saw a tiny spark of anger in his eyes. I panicked when I realized he thought I was lying again. I did not even think to wonder how he knew that. 

“We were raised in foster care together,” I told him and he nodded slowly. He handed me his cell phone.

“I grew up in foster care,” he told me and I smiled.

“I know,” I replied and immediately blushed. “Well… there was that article Forbes wrote on you… you said you grew up in Pennsylvania and...”

I trailed off with a blush.

“I did,” he answered as I took his cell phone from him.

“Thank you, Master,” I said and he nodded.

“Five minutes,” he said curtly and left the room. I waited until I heard his study door shut to make the phone call. It was the same as all of our phone calls. Very short, some I-love-yous, and the exchange of news. She pressed me when I told her I had met a man, but stumbled over how exactly, and panicked and told her he was my boyfriend. As I hung up I made a mental note to ask Brooks what I should call him to other people. He had already told me that the true nature would be kept quiet, he had said something about not risking exposure, but that did not mean Brooks wanted people to think we were dating. I went to his study and knocked. When he opened the door he took his phone back and placed it in his pocket.

“Position four,” he said and I dropped to my knees. “Follow me.”

I followed him until we got to the basement stairs and then he ordered me back on my feet to descend.

“The last thing I need is a slave with a broken neck,” he told me as we descended. I waited to see what new device would be used today anxiously. He ordered me back onto my hands and knees once we were in the cold basement and my knees immediately began to ache. I followed him across the dungeon to a metal bar that looked slightly like a triangle. The arms of the triangle were simple chains, leading up to a hook that was attached to the ceiling by another chain. I bit my lip as I looked up at it and waited.

I was surprised when Brooks leaned down and cut through the camisole I was wearing with a knife. My first thought was horror. Had I displeased him without realizing it? Had I lost the only piece of clothing I had earned? I felt my lip tremble as I looked up at him in wonder. He threw it to the side with a look of distaste on his face. When he looked back down at me it was with indifference and coolness. It took everything in my not to let tears fall from my eyes and over my sticky cheeks.

“Have I displeased you, Master?” I asked him softly and he shook his head.

“Be quiet,” he ordered me and I obeyed. He attached my wrists to the bar, and then crossed the room. He pulled a little crank and slowly the bar began to lift. I went with it, and he only stopped when I was balancing on my tip toes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in my arms. My eyes followed him as he went to the wall of what I would like to call torture instruments. He picked a few things off the wall I could not see and placed them in his pants pockets. When he turned I thought it was another cane he had under his arm, but upon closer examination I could see it was indeed a riding crop. I let out a shaky breath as he approached, struggling to balance on my toes. He looked down at my feet and tilted his head, a little smile on his lips. 

“Don’t fall,” he said with a teasing tone and walked around me. I gasped when I felt the smack to my ass. “What a tight little ass. I can hardly wait to fuck your asshole bloody.”

I took a sharp intake of breath and waited, feeling another smack to my thigh.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” he asked and smacked me again. “Do you like it when I take the time to beat you?”

He smacked me again and I hissed in a breath for it stung terribly.

“Yes, Master,” I told him and he smacked me again on my calf.

“Is that the truth, slave?” he asked and I nodded.

“Yes, Master, I promise it is,” I told him and was rewarded with a smack to the spot on my stomach just to the right of my belly button.

“And why is that, slave?”

“Because you are with me, master, and not someone else,” I answered honestly. I felt his hand stroking one of the little red marks on my creamy skin. The hand was then removed and I felt another smack to the side of my breast.

“Ready for the house rules? Slave?” he asked and I told him I was. “Rule number one, you will refer to me as Master at all times. Rule number two, you will wear any outfit of my choosing at home and in public. I won’t have you walking around like a hooker for everyone to ogle at, understand?”

“Yes Master, I will wear any outfit of your choosing at all times,” I told him and he smacked the inside of my thigh. That were where I hated being hit the most. It was the most sensitive and always left the skin screaming. 

“Rule number three, you will not use any furniture unless given express permission,” he smacked my lower back with the crop and I cried out. “Rule number four, you will serve and obey all guests in this home. Rule number five you will not eat or drink without my permission. Rule six, you will be at my disposal at all times. Rule seven, when you earn the privilege of sharing my bed with you, you will not enter or exit bed without permission. Eight, you have a right, a right slave, to ask permission to speak freely and openly with me at any time. Do you understand that one clearly?”

“Yes Master,” I told him. He came to stand in front of me.

“This is the only right you possess any longer, but it is an important one. It is important you recognize this. It is dependent on our happiness together,” he told me and I nodded.

“I understand Master.” 

“And ninth, you will promptly inform me when you have broken any of these rules outside of my presence,” he finished and smacked my ass with the crop. “Those are the most important and will be posted in the kitchen for you to remind yourself of them. Other rules are too numerous to put to pen or have you memorize word for word. You will simply have to remember them as we continue to cohabitate.”

“Yes, Master,” I said and he nodded. He checked his watch and went to the other side of the room. He was behind me this time and so I could not see what he was doing, but I heard the undeniable sound of a hose. I braced myself for the cold spray a half second before it hit me, but I still let out a little shriek of surprise. The spray hurt, and the water was freezing. He offered my face no relief, and as he got closer, through the spray lessoned, he doused my hair, holding the hose up over my, getting every part of my body wet.

“Good girls get warm showers,” he told me as I was continually doused with the cold spray. It was so jarring after last night in a warm bed, the open speaking at lunch, the kind smile he gave me when I told him about my foster care, that my mind momentarily went blank. “It’s one of the many things you need to earn.”

I nodded and spit out some water that got into my mouth, trying to shake it all off. He moved the hose over me, spraying my clit, my breasts, and shoulders, arms and legs, with the cold water. When he put it to my forehead, he scrubbed my face with a large hand and the cold water, removing the remnants of his dry, sticky cum from my skin. But just as I was getting used to the cold water it was removed and the cool basement air was left to soak into my bones through my damp skin. I shivered violently, my toes dancing against the wet concrete floor as I tried to balance. I did not hear the water shut off, or hear him return, but I sure as hell felt the sting of the riding crop as it his my freezing skin. I gasped, choked in surprise and pain.

“That hurts!” I cried but he did not stop. He hit me again and again, all over my body. He hit my arms, my calves, my thighs, my nipples. I was in terrible pain when it stopped, my body cold and trembling badly. I was disoriented because my body kept swaying in little circles as I tried to dodge the blows and balance at the same time. The feel of his hot hands on my waist was welcome, and I gasped when he lifted me up, an arm around my waist. The chain in the ceiling rose as he lifted me, and I knew that if he were to let me go right now my feet would not be able to find the floor. I was too high up, and I knew this mainly because I could feel his hot breath on my aching, sensitive nipples.

“So pretty,” he breathed and I felt his hot tongue lap over one nipple. I gasped at the sensation, ten times more powerful because of the cold, aching skin. Then the other nipple was licked. I moaned when I felt his mouth wrap around my nipple and he sucked gently, his teeth playfully nipping and biting as he did. The hand that was not wrapped around my waist holding me up, snaking around my thigh, and was finger fucking me with two fingers. “Do you want to thank me for the attention I am giving you?”

His mouth went back to my nipple after the question and I breathed out an apology and a thank you. I was still cold, but the feeling was so great I could feel heat between my legs. I pulled at my restraints as he licked and sucked on my nipples but it was rooted in place. His mouth finally left me, placing one last kiss on each nipple, leaving me shivering on the outside, but smoldering on the inside. He reached up and hit something and pulled me down closer to the ground. He stopped when my tip toes brushed against the floor. Then he stepped back to look me over.

“I have a meeting tonight I was unable to cancel,” he told me and looked at his watch. “But do not fear I will return.”

“M-m-master,” I stuttered as I shivered, rubbing my thighs together in search of friction. “Please don’t leave me like this.”

“You don’t want me to leave you like this?” he asked and I shook my head.

“Please, please don’t,” I whispered. “I’m begging you. I’m s-so cold and my…. I’m…”

“Silence,” he said curtly and I fell quiet. “I hope today did not give you any misconceptions about our relationship. Today, the speaking, it was a breach in protocol. We are officially returning to your training now. Understand?”

I nodded but felt a tear fall down my cheek.

“Yes Master,” I sniffled and he stepped closer. For a moment I thought he was going to wipe the tear away, but instead he took a step away from me.

“I will return,” he told me again.

“Good bye, Master,” I called as he turned to leave. I would have liked him so say something back to me in reply but he merely walked up the stairs. I tried not to cry as I was left alone with my thoughts, my pussy aching, my nipples aching and my body freezing. It was terribly cruel for him to do this to me. Leaving me here in such a state, tied up, naked and shivering from the cold. What brought me pleasure was that he found joy in this. He had to be aroused to think of me, chained up in his basement, naked, at his mercy for even the smallest of comforts.

At the thought of it my own pussy clenched and heated. Why I enjoyed this, why my body reacted to this I would never know. His words hinted of more affection when training was over. Once I got there I would be able to hug him, and kiss him, and spend time with him. Maybe give him a back message while watching TV or movies. I would finally have a real companion I could feel safe with and tell anything. It warmed my chest and I wasn’t as cold anymore.

_

I woke up to the feel of freezing cold water washing over me. I cried out, yelped, and struggled to collect myself. My chest heaved as I tried to slow my breathing, but I was so cold it was difficult.

“I did not give you permission to sleep.”

Brooks sounded angry but I could not imagine why. I had only fallen asleep, and I did not even mean too. I didn’t know I needed permission to sleep when he wasn’t even with me.

“I’mmm s-s-sorryyy,” I barely got out. That water was even colder than it was before. Or perhaps it was merely colder down here, it being later in the day, maybe even night.

“I would have woken you before he returned darling, if I did not have his expressed instructions that my job was merely to check on you periodically. Though I do wish you were awake when I first came down,” Adrian smiled from his spot by the stairs. He leaned against the railing with that lazy smile on his face. Brooks looked toward Adrian with a slight scowl.

“Thank you, Adrian, you can go now,” Brooks said. Adrian glanced at me one last time, that smile playing on his lips. “I have a slave to punish.”

“Have fun,” Adrian smiled and I saw him wink at me.

“I most certainly will,” I heard Brooks say, and then the swinging of a cane.

_


End file.
